


Because We Can

by KrisStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A microscopic bit of angst, Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Harry, First Time, Flower Child Harry, Fluff, M/M, Overuse of Cliches, Punk Louis, Smut, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:58:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisStylinson/pseuds/KrisStylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's the bizzare new kid who likes flowers too much, Louis' the epitome of punk who's not as smooth as he seems. Those two things shouldn't mix as beautifully as they do.</p><p>A nice, long journey through Harry and Louis' intersecting lives, starting with the day they meet in high school—including meddling friends, a Styles-Tomlinson family Christmas, a first time, and a couple's holiday in Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because We Can

**Author's Note:**

> This entire thing was shamefully self-indulgent. It's a cheese-fest. I apologize.
> 
> I know the Punk/Flowerchild thing is old, but it's still damn cute and this story was started in the middle of last year. Blame my procrastination.
> 
> Please read, and try to enjoy.
> 
> ~title from Because We Can by Bon Jovi~

Harry sighed, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he attempted to fit the stems of the white daisies together, but they just seemed to hate Harry more and more as they continued sliding apart every time he tried.

 

"Harry?"

 

Harry turned to the door, staring at his mother in the doorway. She was smiling brightly at him, her expression gentle. "It's time to go to bed, sweetie. First day of school tomorrow."

 

Harry smiled weakly. "Starting at a brand new high school for my junior year. How could I forget?"

 

His tone wasn't bitter, per se, but it was obviously a bit upset, resigned. And Anne could tell.

 

"I'm sorry," she said, entering the room and plopping down on his bed that was surrounded with moving boxes. He got back to working on his flower crown as she watched him with a hint of sadness. "I didn't choose to move. It was either do what my boss said or lose my job. But this job will pay more anyway, we'll have more spending money than before," she finished, attempting to ease him.

 

He smiled up at her, momentarily stopping his work. "I'm not upset, Mum," he said quickly. "Nervous, is all."

 

She sighed, putting her hands on her thighs. "Don't be, honey. Everyone will love you."

 

He usually stayed quiet on this subject and didn't fight his mother because it was simply easier, but he was extremely worried tonight. "They don't give me a second look after they see the crowns, Mum. And if they do, it's to laugh about it."

 

She shook her head. "Don't talk like that. There are just some bad people in the world, it's an every day thing."

 

He didn't seem to feel any better. "Maybe I should just stop wearing them," he said, dejectedly twirling the daisy he's been using between his two fingers.

 

"That would be the worst thing to do," Anne said quickly. She put her hand on his arm. "You love them, Harry. If you quit wearing them, you'll lose a part of yourself. And that will just let the others know they've won."

 

Harry twisted himself in his chair so he was staring his mother in the face. "I guess you're right," he finally said, letting out a regretful breath. "I just wish they'd get a chance to get to me first, you know? I could deal with the teasing if I knew they had an actual reason, besides deciding wearing flowers on my head made me gay. And, I mean, I _am_ gay, but they have no right to just _assume_ —"

 

 

Anne gave him a reassuring smile. "No, they don't. But it's not your fault, and you shouldn't feel responsible for it." She placed a kiss on his head, standing up. "Now go to sleep. You don't want to be half-asleep on your first day, do you?"

 

Harry shook his head. "No." He turned his attention back to the crown. "Can I finish this one first? I was planning on wearing it tomorrow."

 

Anne smiled, her hand gravitating toward the door handle. "Of course. Just try to hurry, and get your rest."

 

He nodded. "I will. Love you."

 

"Love you, too. Good night, Harry."

 

"Night, Mum."

 

~~~

 

Louis _really_ hated school. And not in the usual _work-is-boring-and-the-classes-are-useless_ type of way you'd hear from kids his age, but more or less the _you're-all-judgmental-bastards_ way. And yeah, that sounded ruefully bitter, but in all honesty, Louis Tomlinson was one of the happiest people he himself had ever known.

 

Nevertheless, he found himself throwing on a pair of skinny jeans, and a tank top to put his many meaningful tattoos on display.

 

And, _okay_ , maybe he was asking to be judged with the way he looked. But really, it was everyone else's fault for being so... judgy. It was clearly _not_ his.

 

He threw on an old beanie, then his backpack, threw a quick "Bye!" over his shoulder to his mother and sisters, then was out the door without a second thought.

 

The thing was, his family was _loaded_. Like, _really_ loaded. And he'd seen enough movies and sitcoms to know that either A) made you a total douche nozzle or B) attracted you only the most pretentious and the rudest of friends. Honestly, he had no interest in either of those lifestyles. So he was content with a couple of piercings and maybe a little eyeliner if that's what it took to prevent it from happening to him.

 

That's how he'd ended up with his three closes friends of Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, and Liam Payne. They'd been the only ones to look passed his tattoos and scary demeanor and actually stick around. Plus, they were really the only people at school he had interest in being friends with. He didn't feel the need to have a hundred friends, be a part of the popular crowd, or even socialize, really. No, he had three friends, and that was more than enough.

 

So he'd told his mum that he wanted a make over, and she'd been happy and agreed to let him spend what he wanted. When he came home with two new tattoos, a nose piercing, and a red streak in his hair, she'd only rolled her eyes, told him a, "At least you're happy," and gone back to cooking dinner.

 

Yeah. His mum was awesome.

 

And to keep up with the normal "punk-rock" stereotype, he'd bought himself countless band t-shirts and cd's (which he'd actually quite liked), some new VANS, and a skateboard. Riding it had been only a slight challenge, one he'd conquered in the span of a week. It'd been almost as easy as sliding into this entire character he'd made for himself—so easy, he'd become assured that for some reason, he was meant to be a punk.

 

 

He jumped on his skateboard, pushing off with his foot and riding it as far as it would go until he needed to propel himelf again. Since school wasn't that far away, it took only about fifteen minutes for him to be at the doors. Unsurprisingly, his trio of friends were already there and in their own little bubble, as was everyone else. Louis ignored the others, though, and headed straight for his friends.

 

"Don't you look ecstatic to be back!" Niall commented as Louis came closer and closer. "Damn excited, I tell you."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "About as happy as that time you nearly ripped out my nose ring."

 

"I was drunk and I fell! I've apologized, like, twenty times since!"

 

Louis shook his head, ruffling the lads hair. "I know. It's called a joke, mate."

 

Liam was the next to greet him. "It's great to see you," he said quickly. "How was your summer?"

 

Louis shrugged, leaning against the wall with his hands behind his back. "Boring," he said bluntly. He seemed to lose his train of thought for a second, but quickly regained it. "You act like we didn't keep in touch."

 

Zayn shrugged. "You know Liam. Reminiscent little bastard."

 

Liam smacked at his arm. "More like caring."

 

"Sure," Zayn replied, discreetly trying to put his arm around Liam's waist. Liam rolled his eyes, being more confident about himself and kissing Zayn smack on the lips. Louis quickly turned away in mock-disgust, hearing Niall cough loudly.

 

Zayn gave them the finger, which gave Niall and Louis reason enough to start their own separate conversation.

 

"I hear we're getting a new kid," Niall said off the back of his hand. "He's got a sister, too, a year above us."

 

Louis could practically hear the challenging edge to his voice. "I swear, Niall, you always start off the year in pursuit of some girl who's way out of your league. Give it a rest, would you? Spare yourself—and me—that week of moping about after you've been rejected."

 

 

Niall shook his head. "Nah. I'm feeling good about this year. And the new transfers."

 

"That's what you said last year," Louis said quickly in a sing-song manner.

 

"But we didn't have transfers last year."

 

"You know what I mean."

 

They kept up their playful banter until the bell signaling the start of the day rang. They'd all compared schedules previously, and headed in their separate ways easily.

 

Louis took one last look at the door before stepping through it. Another year in hell was only beginning.

 

~~~

 

Harry found his way to his first block surprisingly quick, even getting there before some of the regular students who'd been going here for years. He opted for a seat towards the back, as to not draw attention to himself. Being new was enough of an attention grabber in itself.

 

Shockingly, the seat beside of him was filled almost immediately by some skinny, slightly-brunette guy who was probably considered fit to most. Harry himself wasn't that attracted to the boy, but he could appreciate beauty when he saw it.

 

"I don't believe we've met before," the boy said, scanning over Harry's appearance. He saw his eyes flick to the flower crown and then back to his face. Harry prepared himself for the worst, folding inside of his own arms. He seemed to not care, though, simply sticking out his hand. "I'm Liam. Liam Payne."

 

Harry warily looked between his eyes and his hands, finally deciding to accept it because this boy seemed genuinely nice. He shook his hand, smiling sweetly after a moment. "Harry Styles."

 

Something seemed to click in Liam's mind. "Are you the transfer student?" he asked.

 

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Along with my sister."

 

"Gemma. Yeah. So I've heard," Liam smiled at Harry.

 

"Heard?" Harry questioned, his voice cracking a bit as he spoke. "How fast does new travel around here?"

 

Liam shrugged his shoulders, getting out the necessary supplies for the class. "Not very. We just never get anyone new."

 

"Oh," was all Harry could say.

 

Liam could sense something wasn't right by the way Harry's mood had went from smiley to worried in less than a second. "Something wrong?"

 

Harry looked at Liam and realized, yeah, he was actually asking _him_ if something was wrong. A boy he hardly knew had been kinder to him in the past five minutes than most people at his last school had been to him in two years. Maybe this school wouldn't be so terrible after all.

 

"No," Harry lied, despite seeing how interested Liam was in helping him out. Truthfully, he was a bit terrified. If Liam already knew how Harry was, most everyone else probably did too. Which meant there would probably be a lot of attention on him for the rest of the day. But that wasn't what scared him. What scared him was people would see him, then the dumb crown made of little flowers on his head, label him weird and gay, and he'd have pretty much no friends.

 

Except maybe for this Liam guy. He seemed pretty cool.

 

Liam watched him and knew he wasn't being completely honest with him, but he didn't mind. If Harry wanted to stay quiet, he could. But that didn't mean he couldn't at least extend his kindness a bit further.

 

"If you don't find a better offer, you can sit with me and my friends at lunch," he said. "They're all extremely nice. We'd welcome you with open arms," he joked, chuckling a bit to himself.

 

Harry smiled. This was probably as good as it was gonna get, and Liam was the closest thing he had to a friend around here. And lunch was one of the things he'd been dreading most. Now he had somewhere to sit, and a guy he already considered a friend. What was he to do other than agree?

 

"Yeah," Harry said finally. "Yeah, I'd like that."

 

Liam grinned. "Great."

 

And, yeah, maybe things didn't suck that much anymore.

 

~~~

 

Louis took his seat at the lunch table beside of Liam and Zayn; Niall was a bit late in getting there. He was hoping he'd hurry, though, because he could only face so much "Liam and Zayn" on his own.

 

His prayers were answered when Niall showed up only two minutes later with his tray in hand. They fell into conversation easily after that, discussing how their days had been thus far. Zayn had been forced to sit through an hour of a lecture from his History teacher, and Niall had met a pretty blonde girl who was "much too perky" for his tastes. Liam, apparently, had met the new kid.

 

"...In fact, I invited Harry to sit with us today."

 

And _really_ , that was the last thing Louis wanted to hear. Another person? Wasn't three enough?

 

But then he though, yeah, this was a _new kid_. He was probably struggling enough today with getting adjusted and what not. Plus, Louis didn't know him. The least he could do was give the kid a shot. At least, that was how he'd been raised.

 

But if this guy was a dick, Louis was _definitely_ letting the shit have it.

 

He was broken from his train of thought by some curly-haired boy walking by their table. He was tall. Like _tall_ tall. And he was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt, and that honestly shouldn't be so attractive but it _was_.

 

The most prominent thing about his outfit, though, was a flower crown made of daisies sitting atop his head. And that was what Louis _really_ liked. It was unique, different, and dare he say it, fucking adorable. And he'd gotten that all from a glance—imagine what this guy probably looked like up close.

 

 

Zayn followed his gaze, finding Curly (that was what Louis decided to call him for now, and possibly forever because it just fit), then smirking in Louis' direction. He nudged Liam's arm, pointing him out.

 

"I think Louis' got a crush."

 

"Shut up," Louis said in a rush. "He's just fit is all."

 

Niall and Liam both looked to where he was pointing. Niall smiled at Louis, but Liam remained staring at him.

 

"Oh, that's actually Harry," he said, and before Louis could stop him, he was waving him over. "Harry!" he shouted, trying to catch the boy's attention. Louis went into full-on panic mode, something Zayn and Niall seemed to find completely and uttery hilarious.

 

"I think you're giving him a panic attack, Li," Niall murmured. Liam apparently didn't hear him however, pulling out the chair between Louis and himself as he continued to call Harry's name.

 

And then Harry was smiling with recognition and he was walking over there and _fuck_ _fuck fuck._

_  
_

Harry took the seat Liam had waiting for him, plopping beside of Louis comfortably and quickly. The only good thing to come out of it was he actually got a good look at Harry.

 

He had these green eyes that reminded Louis of an emerald in a way with their shiny color. His skin was porcelain-like, too, except tanner. His lips were this pretty shade of pink, and Louis wouldn't admit it out loud, but he really would like to kiss them. Yeah. He'd really like that.

 

He heard Zayn snort a bit, and that was what made him realize he'd been staring.

 

Liam ignored the sound, obviously set on making Harry feel welcome. He smiled, greeting him sweetly. "Hey."

 

"Hi," was all Harry replied with, and did he really have to have a perfect voice too?

 

Liam continued, giving Harry a full-blown introduction.

 

"This is Zayn," he said. "My boyfriend, and also the cutest person in the entire world."

 

Normally, Louis would've been a bit grossed out by their sickeningly sweet relationship, but right now, the only problem he had was that that was a lie; he was pretty sure the cutest person in the entire world was beside of him and wearing flowers on his head.

 

Harry watched the two of them interact, a bit surprised at first and Louis was worried that he'd been homophobic (even though he honestly didn't seem the type) and wouldn't that be the best thing for Louis to hear right now? But then Harry was smiling at them, a sense of calm falling over Louis.

 

"And that's Niall," he said, and Niall gave a little wave. "He's Irish, loves to drink, and he swears a lot, but he's truthfully one of the biggest sweethearts ever to exist."

 

He finally turned to Louis, and that's when Louis _really_ started to panic because the most adorable boy on the face of this planet was staring at _him_. He'd never felt so vulnerable.

 

"That's Louis," Liam explained. "Don't be fooled by the piercings, or the layers and layers of tattoos. He's actually a huge softie."

 

"Quit spilling my secrets," Louis said, focusing on Liam because if he didn't, he was sure he'd just start talking about how cute Harry was and never stop, thus making a fool of himself to a guy who might possibly be straight. Louis really hoped Harry wasn't straight.

 

"You forgot something about Louis," Zayn piped in.

 

"What's that?"

 

"He's completely smitten with—"

 

 

"Who wants my chips?" Louis blurted out quickly. He was positive he knew what Zayn was about to say. Zayn laughed again, burying his face in Liam's side to muffle the giggles. Liam seemed genuinely confused, asking what that had all been about, and Zayn was more than willing to tell him. He leaned over and whispered it into Liam's ears, causing the latter boy to look at Louis and blush before smiling a bit smugly.

 

"What are they talking about?" Harry asked, and it took a moment for it to register in Louis' mind that he was talking to him.

 

Once he got over the initial shock, he managed to say, "Probably something really stupid."

 

Harry only smiled at him, and Louis suddenly had the urge to make him do that all the time because it was that beautiful.

 

Louis really wanted to hit himself because, now, he was completely and absolutely smitten with Harry Styles.

 

~~~

 

Harry walked home that day feeling like he was on Cloud 9.

 

He'd made four new friends today—four more than he'd even dreamed of—and they'd all been incredibly accepting of him and didn't even mention a thing about his crown of flowers. They'd even included him in all of their conversations, and he'd learned they were all pretty laid back and just _fun_ in the best way.

 

 

And there was Louis, too. And that _really_ helped.

 

Louis was gorgeous, Harry had decided. He had a soft, brown fringe, and these streaks of res throughout that Harry hadn't realized he'd liked until he'd seen them on Louis. Then he had the most beautiful blue eyes that reminded him of the sky on a sunny day and he'd wondered where the clouds were floating about in his skull. But that wasn't even the best part; he was covered in tattoos. And not dumb tattoos of boobs and penises or anything like that—pretty tattoos. Of birds and compasses and just _pretty_ things.

 

 

Louis was pretty, too. Even though he looked really scary. But that was something Harry liked about him; the rough looking outside, yet the totally sweet boy inside. It was different, much like himself, and maybe that was why he was so attracted to him.

 

After lunch, he'd discovered he and Louis had Maths together. Which was wonderful, considering Harry was sure he'd never get enough of Louis. And Louis had even sat beside of him, without Harry having to ask, and he'd made conversation with him when they had free time. By the end of the class, Harry was convinced Louis Tomlinson was perfection.

 

He found himself standing in front of his new house, key in hand, as he realized that he'd in fact just spent the entire walk home thinking about Louis. He didn't mind, though. It was a good thing to think about.

 

He saw a hand-written note lying on the countertop as soon as he entered the kitchen. It was his mother, telling him she'd been called into work and that she'd probably not be home until late. She'd asked him to prepare dinner for himself and Gemma.

 

Right then, Gemma decided to make her appearance. She was still in her school clothes, but she'd come from upstairs which lead Harry to believe she'd somehow beaten him home—maybe he'd been thinking a bit _too_ much about a certain person on his way.

 

 

"Hey," his older sister greeted, practically skipping into the room. "How was your first day?"

 

"Great," Harry replied, and he was actually being honest. "Found out this curriculum isn't as steep as our last school. Teachers were nice enough. And I even made some new friends."

 

She smiled at him, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a drink. "You must've made quite an impression."

 

He quit rummaging through the cabinets for a moment, looking at his sister curiously. "What makes you say that?"

 

She shrugged, taking a sip of her water. "This one guy came up to me and asked if I was your sister. We talked for a bit, then he asked for our address. Sweet guy, and really fit. And his bum was quite a beauty, too."

 

He ignored her in depth description because he really didn't need to hear about his sister's flirtations. Instead, he found himself asking, "Did you give it to him?"

 

"I'm almot positive he was gay—"

 

 

"Not that," Harry shook his head. "Our address. Did you give him our address?"

 

"Oh," she said, then turned on her heels towards the stairs. "Yeah. Yeah I did."

 

"Why would you do that?" He shouted after her as she began to ascend the stairs. "He could be a murderer for all we know! Or a rapist! He could drug us both!" When she still gave him no reply, he sighed, giving in. "Did you at least get his name?"

 

She stopped, thinking for a bit. "Come to think of it, it didn't come up in conversation."

 

He didn't have time to ask her anything else, as he heard her door shut above his head. He sighed, wondering why _he_ had to be the smart one here, the grown up one, when Gemma was a year older than him herself. He wouldn't have pretty much invited a stranger into the house without even knowing his first name, especially in a town he'd just moved to.

 

Nonetheless, he began to cook dinner for the two of them.

 

In the middle of stirring his concoction, he began to wonder who this person was. He'd only really talked to Liam, Zayn, Niall, and Louis today. But none of them had really seemed _that_ interested in Harry—sure, they all seemed to like him quite a bit, but not enough to go as far to ask his sister for their address.

 

 

He thought harder, about every person he'd run into today. He was sure that, besides Liam and Zayn, none of them were gay as Gemma had described. And, besides Louis, he didn't really find anyone that good-looking. Really, he was beginning to wonder if Gemma had made the whole thing up to make him feel better.

 

He finished cooking their food, the entire time telling himself that he didn't _need_ cheering up. He had Liam and Zayn and Niall and _Louis_ , so really, he was completely and utterly _fine_.

 

He shouted up the stairs to let Gemma know her meal was prepared, then went into the living room and ate his own in an almost-silence, the only sounds being Indie Rock bands playing softly in the background from where he'd plugged his iPod into a dock.

 

He cleaned his plate quickly, only thinking about Louis and his perfection about ninety percent of the time, and really, it could be worse.

 

He found himself going outside and lying face down on the hammock that had come with the house—he faintly remembered his mother telling him about it in an effort to make him feel better about the move, because he couldn't decide to stay even if he wanted, and they both knew it. He'd still been a little bitter about it at the time, but was secretly excited on the inside because hammocks were relaxing and God only knows how badly Harry needed to relax after the endless teasing at his old school.

 

 

He pulled his iPod back out of his pocket and a pair of headphones, plugging them in. He put them in his ears and flipped the device on. He sighed, closed his eyes, and let himself get lost in the sound of music fluttering into his ears.

 

Somewhere in the middle of it all, he found himself smiling, and it felt genuine, too.

 

~~~

 

Louis wondered just when he'd become a stalker.

 

Yeah, he liked Harry—he was insanely adorable and incredibly sweet, a nice opposite of how Louis seemed to most. He was gently and kind and everything Louis wished he could be. So, yeah, he was a bit taken with the boy. But asking his sister for their address—not even a nice little _phone number_ or even a screen name, but an _address_ —was probably borderline stalker.

  


Yet he still found himself riding his old skateboard down the sidewalk until he'd reached the house Gemma had informed him was theirs. Honestly, he should've talked himself out of it; how would he feel if Harry randomly showed up to his house unannounced?—Okay, so maybe Louis was a bad example. But that did nothing to make what he was doing seem any less stupid and irrational.

  


He was just about to turn around and go home because he was _scaring_ himself with how obsessed he'd become with the boy in a matter of hours, but then something—or someone—caught his eye. He saw the mop of curls, and then the crown of flowers on his head, and he was suddenly walking towards the hammock where the boy was lying face down. That was probably a good thing, too; he wouldn't just see Louis and run. At least not yet.

 

 

Given the situation, Louis should've walked up to him and greeted the boy with a nice hello, tell him he just happened to be riding through the neighborhood and saw him lying there and thought "Hey! I should talk to you!" But then he'd remembered _how_ he was here; he'd asked Harry's sister for their address. And who's to say she hadn't already said something to Harry? What if he was expecting Louis to show up? And if Louis didn't, Harry would probably be disappointed. Ultimately, he _had_ to do this, or Harry might somehow possibly get a tiny bit hurt. And it would all be Louis' fault.

 

 

Yeah. That was it.

 

After taking a deep breath in failed efforts to calm himself, Louis began to tentatively walk forwards. He didn't know what he planned on doing, but then again, Louis was a go-with-the-flow type of guy. But he felt like he needed to have something to go off of, because he would hate himself forever if he messed things up with Harry.

 

He ignored his thoughts and he just _did_.

 

He quietly slid under the hammock until he was directly under Harry, thankful for the boys closed eyes and sound-blocking headphones. He let himself sit there for a moment, just staring up at Harry because, wow, he's even more beautiful when he's relaxed. But he decided he'd been a stalker long enough and he needed to actually let Harry know he was here before he found out for himself.

 

"I like you're crown," Louis said rather loudly, and maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to do because Harry's eyes flew open and he looked plain terrified. Then everything happened in a blur as the hammock flipped, causing Harry to land on top of Louis in the most awkward of ways and Louis was freaking out, internally scolding himself for having done this to Harry.

 

"Oops," he said involuntarily.

 

"Hi," Harry said around the same time.

 

Then Harry was laughing and _wow_ the sound was like a million angels singing at once or a thousand wind chimes playing perfectly in sync. It was beautiful, and very infectious, Louis discovered, as he began to laugh along with him.

 

After a while, the laughter died down and Louis' initial worries returned. He was here. At Harry's house. With Harry lying on top of him. Harry hadn't known Louis was coming. So, yeah, Louis thought Harry had every reason in the world to be angry with him right now.

 

Except he wasn't.

 

"I honestly don't mind the surprise," Harry began, playing with the end of Louis' hair, being sure to assure him of his joy at seeing the boy. "But why are you here?"

 

Louis opened his mouth to respond, but then it closed again. He had no idea why, other than that he found himself inexplicably attracted to Harry and he really couldn't say that. Because he'd done enough already, what with practically ogling him the entire day and a surprise visit on top of that. Plus, outwardly telling Harry _I think you're hot as fuck_ probably wouldn't work out in the end for either of them.

 

 

Louis shrugged, playing off nonchalance because he was still too— _surprised_ to do anything. "Wanted to be. Not important." He gave Harry a smirk. "I think the real mystery here is why you're still on me."

 

 

Harry's eyes widened, his cheeks turning the darkest of reds. He coughed, quickly rolling off of Louis and onto the ground beside of him, sitting in an upright position. "Uh... I, uh..." he sputtered, taking a deep breath in an unsuccessful attempt to recompose himself. "Um..."

 

Louis laughed, taking his chance to sit up, cross-legged and straight across from Harry. "S'okay. I _am_ sort of irresistible," Louis said, shrugging. Harry shoved his shoulder, causing Louis to only laugh louder. Harry sat back, pouting with his arms crossed. "At least I didn't show up at your house," he said. " _Unannounced_."

 

Louis sighed. "Yeah. If you had done that, we'd have been sitting at in each other's lounges looking like total idiots while talking to the other's parents." Louis sat forward, his eyebrows creased. "Speaking of, where are yours?"

 

Harry smiled. "Why? Planning on kidnapping me?"

 

Louis laughed again, and how genuine it was scared even Louis. "Caught me," He put his hands up in mock-defeat. "I was _totally_ going to kidnap you. In front of all your neighbors and everything. I love the thrill of a witness."

 

"I'm shaking," Harry replied, smiling even wider to himself with this big, stupid grin Louis had already decided he loved. "But my Mum's at work." There was a small, comfortable silence as Harry thought something over—at least, Louis thought he was. He was pretty sure that was Harry's thinking face.

 

 

"How did you know where to find me?" Harry asked, seeming like he already knew the answer but wanted Louis' assurance, just in case.

 

Louis shrugged again, and he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "Don't sound creeped out," he warned before beginning. "But I asked your sister for your address."

 

Harry chuckled then if only to himself. "I figured," he said. To Louis' confused expression, he continued. "She told me some guy asked for our address. She described him as fit, sweet, and having a beatiful bum," he paused, watching Louis smirk to himself. "So I instantly thought it couldn't be you."

 

"Shut up," Louis teased. "I think your sister has great taste," he said, putting his chin in the air. "Impeccable, dare I say."

 

"So full of yourself," Harry said, but his smile stayed put nonetheless.

_You could be full of me too,_ Louis thought. Then he smacked himself internally because for one thing, Harry seemed totally innocent and _fuck_ , that only made Louis want him more. For another, it was filling Louis' head with thoughts he shouldn't be having about a boy sitting a foot away from him.

 

And, yeah, Louis thought Harry deserved better. There was that too.

 

Louis stood up abruptly, Harry's eyes following him as he did. He offered his hand to Harry, which Harry took without question. "C'mon."

 

"Where?" Harry asked, staring at their interlocked hands as Louis lead them away from the hammock. Louis looked back, saw where Harry's eyes were and smiled to himself. "Somewhere."

 

"And I should trust you?" he inquired, a mischevious glint in his eyes. Louis laughed.

 

"No. I'm your kidnapper, remember?"

 

~~~

 

"Really? You're breaking into a rich stranger's house? And bringing me with you?" Harry asked, only sounding a little worried as they stood at the door of what looked like a freaking _mansion_.

 

"No," Louis said, slipping a hand into his pocket to retrieve a metal object. He showed a shiny key with the letter _T_ engraved on it to Harry. "I'm breaking into _my_ rich stranger's house and bringing you with me." Louis sighed. "Seriously, Harry, don't be fooled by my kick-ass persona," he smiled. "That's only a fraction of me, and I'm hurt that you think I'm that simple."

 

Harry was still in awe. "So this is like... your house?"

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "Gullible _and_ slow. Honestly, why do I bother?" He finished jokingly, pushing open the door and practically dragging Harry inside.

 

Honestly, Louis had no idea why he was here. He typically didn't let strangers know of his wealth. But then there was Harry, and for some reason, it felt _wrong_ to keep it a secret from him.

 

"Mum? M'home. Brought a..." Louis' eyes flashed to Harry—kind, innocent, _beautiful_ Harry and _friend_ didn't seem like the right word. "Harry."

 

 

Harry laughed. " _A_ Harry? What, am I the fiftieh Harry to enter this house? Do I get a certificate, like stores do for their millionth customer or something?"

 

"I can get my sisters to make one, but it'll be messy crayon rainbows and unicorns shitting glitter."

 

"My favorite."

 

Jay entered the room looking happy and so stereotypically house-wife that Louis was sure most mothers would be either jealous or intimidated. She smiled warmly at the two of them, only looking a bit surprised at the new guest.

 

"I'd ask how your first day back went, but I'm guessing pretty well since you've seemed to have made a new friend already." She walked forward, extending her hand to Harry. He accepted it, feeling slightly nervous. "Jay Tomlinson," she introduced.

 

"Harry," he said in return. "Harry Styles. It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Tomlinson. You have a lovely home."

 

Louis nearly scoffed, but refrained because this already seemed so typically _Harry_ that it was somehow comforting.

 

Jay laughed lowly to herself, shaking her head. "Lose the formal title, it's only Jay," she began and Harry already liked the woman, feeling a bit more comfortable. "But keep the manners, it's refreshing after having Louis for a son."

 

Louis looked appalled. "I'm a perfect gentleman!"

 

She continued to shake her head. "Believe what you want," she told him. Flicking her eyes between the two of them, she gave Louis a knowing look. Turning on her heels, she said over her shoulder, "I'd love to stay, but I've got dinner to tend to. You're welcome to stay, Harry!"

 

Harry didn't have time to tell her he'd already eaten previously as she waltzed out of the room.

 

Louis grabbed his hand, heading toward the stairs. "Let's go."

 

Harry didn't even bother asking where.

 

When they reached the top of the stairs, they passed two identical doors directly across the hall from each other decorated almost exactly the same way with the letters _D_ and _P_ strategically painted on either door. He idly noted the matching themes, and only then decided to question Louis.

 

"Sisters?" he asked. Louis smiled over his shoulder as they passed another two doors. "Four of them," Louis answered, shrugging. "Probably should've warned you. They're quite... intrusive."

 

Harry laughed."I bet they're lovely."

 

"Of course _you_ do," Louis said, but there was no accusation in his voice. "You think everyone is lovely, and everyone else thinks you're lovely in return."

 

Harry smiled softly. "You think I'm lovely?"

 

Louis didn't answer, swallowing as he opened the door to his bedroom. Harry understood what Louis meant. That was why he was smiling like a total idiot when he followed Louis into his room. Or maybe it was because _he was following Louis into his room._ Or maybe a combination of both. Yeah, probably the last one.

 

Louis lead Harry toward the bed immediately, but almost as quickly regretted it. Maybe Harry would get the wrong idea—no. Surely not innocent little Harry. He chanced a look back at Harry, only to find him staring around the room in awe and completely ignoring where they were. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in.

 

 

Something about Harry made him the most confident guy in the world, but also the shyest and most nervous human being on the face of the earth. It was a contradiction, much like Louis himself and as Louis had come to realize, a lot like Harry, too.

 

"You're a fan of The Fray?" Harry asked suddenly, currently looking at the stack of the CDs sitting on Louis' bedside table. He examined them curiously, like they were the most precious things on earth. "Coldplay?"

 

Louis shrugged. "I know good music when I hear it."

 

Harry smiled, picking up another CD. "Ed Sheeran?"

 

"The lad has great vocals _and_ is a lyrical genius," Louis defended. "Full package, mate."

 

"I'm not knocking him," Harry said slowly, yet somehow urgently. "I happen to be a huge fan, too. Just noting your tastes."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "For?"

 

Harry gave Louis a sideways smirk, lying down beside of him. "My personal entertainment," he answered, laughing to himself. He nudged Louis' side, becoming shocked when Louis jumped. He sat up on his elbows. "Are you ticklish?"

 

Louis kept his eyes locked anywhere but Harry. "No."

 

Harry poked his side again, causing Louis to move once more. "Explain that."

 

Louis made a dramatic gesture, and sighed. "You're touch sets my body on fire." And really, it was only a half-lie. Or most of one. Or not a lie at all. Yeah. That last one was probably true. And Louis didn't even know why he'd said it—it sounded like a line to an Adele song, or some other sappy tune. Not something you say to a boy you've known for less than a day.

 

 

Harry poked at his sides again. "But I don't want you to burn," he murmured, a sad smile flashing across his face. "You'll die."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "You are such a dork."

 

Harry stayed quiet, losing his train of thought just staring at Louis. Louis realized this, his smile fading. He gulped, suddenly drowning in worried, rushed thoughts of _what have I done wrong_?

 

"Did I...?" Louis trailed off, afraid to finish. But then Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the very corner of his mouth, and leaned back like nothing had happened. He kept his gaze locked on Louis, observing him as if he were the most beautiful thing in the world. And to Harry, he could've been.

 

"What was that?" Louis inquired. His tone was quiet, shocked. But there wasn't even a hint of harshness in his voice, and Harry took solice in that fact.

 

"A kiss," he answered, like it was the most simple thing in the world. "Kissing is a way of showing affection, and I feel particularly affectionate towards you, Lou. It makes sense to me."

 

Louis stayed totally still a moment longer before coughing and beginning to laugh, because most of the time, that's how things went it seemed; Harry was always in on some joke with himself, and didn't care to share it with the world. "That hardly counts as a kiss, Harry."

 

Harry smiled, his lips sideways. "Is that a challenge?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Really? 'Cause for a second there, it sounded like you wanted me to kiss you."

 

"Get your ears checked."

 

"My ears are perfectly fine, Louis."

 

"Apparently not."

 

"Are you denying the fact that you want to kiss me?"

 

"Nope."

 

"So you _do_ want to kiss me?"

 

"I never said that."

 

"You're confusing me, Lou."

 

Louis sprung forward and pressed his lips against Harry's, all rushed and full of lips and teeth. He brought his hands up to either side of Harry's face, flipping Harry backward so Louis was hovering over him. He pressed his knee between Harry's thighs for better leverage, planting his elbows on the mattress. He lowered his body until he was practically one with Harry, never letting their lips break contact.

 

He realized how far he had seemed to take it in a matter of seconds and backed away before he freaked Harry out.

 

"That was... uh..." Harry said, trying to find the right words. Louis allowed himself to glance over at Harry, taking observations. His lips were wet and dark now, looking very much kiss bruised and swollen. It was the cutest, yet hottest, thing Louis had ever seen and he found himself struggling to tear his eyes away when Harry spoke again.

 

"I really enjoyed that," Harry finished, staring at Louis with a satisfied smile. "Honest."

 

Louis really didn't know what to say and he didn't trust his words, so he leaned forward and kissed Harry again, but much softer this time without all the teeth and messiness of before. He felt Harry's hand come up and caress his cheek, and he smiled thinking, _I've finally done something right._

_  
_

~~~

 

Harry left the house only a few hours later, but not without a take-home bowl of food from Jay and quite a few suspicious glances from the woman. She winked at Louis when she thought Harry wasn't looking though, so Harry considered that a win in itself.

 

Louis took the liberty of walking Harry home ("It's dark out! There's no telling what evils may lurk in the shadows!") and they had just stepped out onto the sidewalk when Harry instinctively reached for Louis' hand. Louis was still, causing Harry to second guess his actions.

 

"Is this okay?" he asked shyly, gesturing to their hands. Louis smiled through the darkness, intertwining their fingers. "Definitely."

 

Harry blushed and thanked whoever that it was dark enough that Louis couldn't see that.

 

A few more moments passed, filled with only the quiet wisps of wind and their footsteps. Harry kept his eyes locked on his and Louis' hands, grinning to himself. He found his thoughts drifting back to the first kiss in the bedroom, and everything leading up to that moment, then everything after. His thoughts eventually jumbled together and he was unable to tell one thing from another. He found himself confused, a feeling that wasn't quite welcome.

 

"What does this make us?" he asked softly, taking Louis—and himself—by surprise.

 

 

Louis gripped Harry's hand tighter as they turned a corner. "I'd prefer boyfriends, but that's really up to you."

 

Harry smiled, filled with such a sudden joy that he couldn't help himself; he turned around and interlocked their other set of hands, leaning down just a bit to plant his lips on Louis'. He trailed his mouth from there to his jaw, to his collarbone—virtually anywhere he could reach.

 

 

When he finally stopped, Louis was grinning like an idiot. Harry wrapped his arms around him, pecking his lips once more before speaking.

 

"Of course I'm okay with that," he said. They stared in each other's eyes, the way they do in those sappy movies, and everything around them faded away as they got lost in their own little worlds.

 

"We should probably get going. Wouldn't want Mum to worry," Harry finally said, though it was reluctant. Louis nodded, but kept his and Harry's hands together and Harry as close as possible.

 

They made it to Harry's door, where Harry insisted that Louis could come in for a little while to "rest up from their walk" if he needed it, but it was really just a poorly veiled excuse to keep Louis around just a little longer. Louis politely declined, deciding that it wouldn't seem very gentlemanly for Harry to lead a boy that looked like Louis into his house this late at night. After a few minutes of convincing Harry, Harry finally gave up.

 

"Fine," he murmured. He pouted very feebly—and adorably. 

  


Louis stood on his tiptoes and kissed his pout softly yet passionately. He let his hands rest on Harry's hips, using it to his advantage to get himself high enough to kiss his boyfriend's—his heart jumped at the term—forehead.

 

 

"Goodnight, Harry," he whispered.

 

"Night, Lou."

 

~~~

 

The next day, as soon as Harry stepped on school grounds, he knew it was going to be a great day. His suspicions were only proved right as lunch rolled around and he found Louis waiting for him at the doors.

 

"Hey," Louis greeted, leaning forward and kissing Harry's lips. It stayed a gentle peck since they were in public, but it held just as much meaning as it had last night.

 

Louis laced his fingers through Harry's, doing a grand gesture towards the doorway. "Shall we?"

 

Harry giggled softly, pulling Louis in behind him. "We shall."

 

They entered the lunch room, hands still together, and began walking toward their—Louis liked to think of it that way now—table.

  


"Shit," Louis said as soon as he realized what he'd thought—he was holding Harry, his boyfriend's, hand on the way to their lunch table where all of his friends were sitting, none of which knew about his new relationship.

 

 

"What is it?" Harry asked worriedly, suddenly self-conscious.

 

"They don't know," Louis said, gesturing to where Liam, Zayn, and Niall sat. Harry caught on quickly, laughing quietly when he did. "Aw. Is Louis scared?"

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "No. They can be... overwhelming sometimes. And they've been trying to get me a boyfriend for the past year, to no avail, so they're probably going to be ecstatic."

 

Harry bumped into Louis's side playfully. "What's wrong with that?"

 

Louis seemed to get lost in thought, then shook his head. "Nothing, I guess." He turned to Harry, giving him his best smile. "Let's go."

 

Harry followed Louis to their seats, the same places as yesterday, and didn't utter a word about yesterday's events. It was a sort of uunspoken agreement between the two of them; don't bring it up unless asked. Then, bring it up, but keep it to a minimum.

 

They kept their fingers twined together beneath the table and gave their undivided attention to the three boys seated around them.

 

Somehow, lunch passed with only a few knowing glances thrown their way, but it seemed they all understood what was going on for the most part and they were fine with just that. Except for Zayn, who was surprisingly the biggest gossip of the group, and would undoubtedly be giving Louis a phone call tonight.

 

When the bell sounded the end of lunch, Louis placed a quick kiss on Harry's lips and they parted ways with the promise of seeing each other in last block.

 

~~~

 

"I was hoping you'd tell me, but it looks like I'm going to have to ask," Zayn said, plopping down into the seat nearest Louis. He gave Louis a look out of the corner of his eye. Louis returned it with feigned confusion, shrugging his shoulders. Zayn sighed, sitting up and leaning in closer to him. "You and Harry. You, Louis Tomlinson, the most punk-ass kid to walk these halls, got with Harry Styles, new student donning a crown of flowers, and you expected to get by without saying a word? How long have you known me?"

 

Louis shrugged once again, attempting to remain calm but then he was smiling until the corners of his mouth met his eyes and that seemed to make something click in Zayn's mind. "You're so smitten, it's adorable."

 

Louis didn't even try to wipe the smile off of his face. "So? You're the same way with Liam."

 

Zayn didn't even flinch. "That's different. We're Liam and Zayn. You're Louis fucking Tomlinson. You haven't had a relationship in forever."

 

Louis looked towards the front of the room. "Don't judge me."

 

Zayn put his hads up in mock defeat. "Not judging. Observing." He sat back in his seat. "There's a difference."

 

Louis rolled his eyes, smling at his friend nonetheless. "Shut up, tosser."

 

"Your wish is my command."

 

~~~

 

By the end of the day, Louis and Harry both endured their fair share of interrogation from the boys.

 

In Harry's last class of the day, he'd been cornered by Liam who asked what his intentions were with Louis (as if _he_ were the one to worry about) and the whole worried-father routine. Niall simply walked up to him with a, "You and Louis, huh?" and about five minutes of conversing was all it took for Niall to move to another topic. Zayn even got in his few words with the lad before he was satisfied.

 

It was all a million times worse with Louis, since they knew him better. But it wasn't anything Louis wasn't used to, so he went along with it for the most part. He told them what he wanted, and kept to himself what he didn't or if it was something he and Harry hadn't discussed—which he discovered throughout the day was quite a bit. He made a mental note to change that.

  


When the school day was over, they all said their goodbyes and went their separate ways—except for Louis and Harry, of course. Before Harry could refuse (but he wouldn't have, even if he'd been asked), Louis was rolling up beside of him on his skateboard.

 

 

"I'll walk you, yeah?" He asked, his wheels keeping in time with Harry's feet.

 

Harry smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

 

They were just leaving school grounds when a voice called out to them from behind.

 

"Harry!" Gemma shouted, jogging to catch up with the two of them. "Wait for me! I don't want to walk home alone _again_!"

 

Harry slowed down, turning around to see where the voice was coming from but the sudden movement caused his crown to fly off. He noticed almost immediately, trying to save it but failing. He was ready to face defeat when a hand shot out and caught it by the stem. Louis quickly placed it back on his boyfriend's head, smiling to himself when he was satisfied with its placement.

 

"Perfect," he whispered, his hand coming down to caress his cheek. He stroked his thumb across Harry's cheek, causing a blush to rise to his cheeks. Louis simply smiled, keeping his hand there for a second longer, then dropping it to his side as Gemma approached them.

 

Gemma had caught up to them by then. She placed herself between the two of them, ignoring Harry's eye roll, and threw her arms over both of their shoulders.

 

"Apparently there's some punk as fuck kid dating this guy with curly hair and flower crowns," she said. She looked at them both out of the corners of her eyes, smirking. "Would either of you happen to know anything about that?"

 

Harry nudged his sister's side. "Shut up."

 

She laughed, putting Harry in a head lock (despite their drastic difference in height) and brought his head down low enough so she could run her fist through his hair playfully, carefully to avoid the crown. "I'm just messing with you, kid." She let go, gesturing to Louis. "I'll be honest, though, I'm a little jealous." She pinched Louis' cheek jokingly. "Cute one, you are."

 

"Thanks," Louis answered, not the best at taking compliments but this was Harry's sister, and he wanted to make a good impression.

 

"Polite, too," Gemma continued. "Damn it, do you have a brother? Straight version of you? That'd be heavenly."

 

Louis laughed nervously. "Uh, no. Only sisters."

 

Gemma sighed. "Shit. So my dorky little brother gets a boyfriend before I do? That's definitely not what I had planned for this year."

 

"Gem..." Harry murmured, a sort of warning in his voice. "Tone it down a bit, yeah?"

 

"'Tone it down a bit?'" She mocked in a terrible version of Harry's voice. "Harry, this is my senior year. I'll be damned if I suffer through it without even a boyfriend to whine to!" She gave her attention to Louis once again. "A cousin, maybe? Friend? I'm desperate, babe."

 

Louis laughed again, but this time it was more heart-felt than nervous. "Afraid not," he said, then continued when he remembered the day before. "Actually, yes." Gemma perked up. "One of my best mates. Name's Niall, he's a sweetheart." He smiled. "You'd get on well."

 

She grinned, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I quite like you." She skipped ahead of both of them. "Walk with me, boys! I'd enjoy getting home before dark!"

 

Yeah, Louis liked her.

 

"Sorry about her," Harry apologized when she was a safe distance ahead of them. "She inherited the boisterous gene."

 

Louis laughed, shaking his head. "I thought she was lovely."

 

Harry rolled his eyes, scoffing. "More like loud."

 

Louis intertwined their hands. "She was lively." He leaned in close, pecking Harry on the cheek. "I think you got the super-cute-bum gene, though."

 

Harry blushed, his cheeks warm against Louis'. "You're such a charmer, Lou," he whispered slowly, but Louis found his speaking speed a little endearing. Then again, he found everything about Harry endearing. Maybe his judgement was a little biased.

 

"I try," he answered, beginning to roll on his skateboard once again, but keeping their hands locked. He kept his pace slow, slow enough to keep up with Harry, and they continued on their way.

 

Throughout their walk, occasionally Louis would bring Harry's hand up and kiss it and Harry would turn red, and other times Harry would say something really senseless and Louis would roll his eyes and kiss him because that's what felt right.

 

Sometime after their latest kiss, and Gemma's call of "Can you two quit making out for two seconds? I'm suffering enough without you shoving your perfect relatinship in my face," they arrived at Harry's home.

 

Louis stopped his skateboard in front of the door. "Guess I'm getting off here," he said, smiling. He quickly placed a kiss to Harry's lips then pulled away. "See you tomorrow, Haz."

 

Just as Harry was getting his own goodbye out, the door opened and revealed a woman Louis had never seen before, but was pretty sure was Harry's mother. He smiled the best he could, even though all of his instincts were telling him to vomit from nerves.

 

"Good, you two are home. They called me into the office, I left a note on the table explaining everything—" She stopped when she caught sight of Louis. "Uh, hi,. I don't believe we've met," she said rather cautiously. Louis saw her look him up and down, then give a look to both Gemma and Harry. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but who are you?"

 

 

Harry blushed a bit at the question. He opened his mouth, ready to introduce him as Louis, from school, but Gemma was already speaking.

 

"He's Harry's hot boyfriend," she blurted out. "Relatively new, so don't feel bad for not knowing."

 

"Oh," Anne replied, facing the two red-faced boys with a small smile. She stuck her hand out to Louis. "Anne," she said. "And you?"

 

Louis shook her hand quickly, determined not to screw up. "Louis. Nice to meet me—I mean you. Oh God, I'm not egotistical, I swear. It was a slip of the—"

 

 

Anne laughed, effectively cutting Louis off. "It's fine. I understand," she muttered. Her phone chose that moment to ring. She quickly reached into her pocket, reading over what Louis presumed was a text message. She sighed, pocketing her phone once again. "Sorry to cut this meeting short, but I've really got to go." She smiled as she walked away. "Nice meeting you, Louis!"

 

Louis didn't start breathing again until she was gone.

 

"That was incomparably boring," Gemma murmured. "No explosion about the tattoos or the hair or the piercings... guess my only entertainment tonight will be from the telly." She sighed, beginning toward the door. "Have fun, you two, and don't make out in the street," she finished before vanishing through the doors.

 

"You okay, Lou?" Harry asked once they were alone. There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "Funny, Harold." Louis sighed. "If you must know, no, I'm not. That was you're fucking _mum_."

 

Harry shrugged. "So? I met your mum."

 

Louis grabbed Harry by the shoulders, gently shaking him. "That was different. You knew before hand, and you're _you_ so you didn't have to worry about making a terrible first impression, like I probably just did with your mum."

 

Harry laughed to himself. "What gives you that idea?"

 

Louis sighed. "I don't even know," he said, beginning to smile himself at the sight of Harry so carefree. "I just really don't want to fuck up, you know?"

 

Harry took a moment to think about it, his eyes crinkling in the cutest way. "Yeah. I know," he drawled so, so slowly. He pursed his lips, seemingly lost in thought once again. Louis observed him, noting this as his "thinking face." It was pretty adorable, with the way he squinted with his lips together. Louis smiled to himself.

 

Harry snapped himself out of his trance. He smiled at Louis when he noticed he was looking. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?"

 

Louis nodded. "Yeah. Goodbye kiss?"

 

Harry rolled his eyes. But he kissed him anyway, half from wanting to satisfy Louis and the other from wanting to kiss him himself.

 

~~~

 

It was only a few months after that—three months and two days, Louis counted—that they solidified their relationship in a more intimate way. Anne had been at a late-night meeting, promising to be home by morning at the very least, and Gemma had finally agreed to go on that date with Niall he'd been trying to get out of her for weeks.

 

 

In the end, Louis and Harry were left alone in Harry's bedroom. Sprawled out over the comforter with his head across Louis' chest, Louis had never been more attracted to him. It was something he'd come to learn in his time with Harry; he grew more and more attracted to him day by day, and maybe just a little bit more in love.

 

Except Harry didn't know that, and Louis wasn't quite ready to tell him.

 

Louis nudged Harry with the hand that wasn't running through his curls. He had on his "thinking face" again, and Louis' curiosity got the better of him. "What're you thinking about?"

 

Harry looked up at him through the few strands of hair that remained on his forehead. "You."

 

Louis rolled his eyes and blushed only a little—he had learned that Harry wasn't afraid to be vocal with his feelings, and that often ended up with some cheesy picck-up line or a well-thought out compliment that Louis couldn't even begin to return because he just didn't have a way with words like Harry did.

 

 

Harry noticed the eye-roll and decided to comment. "I'm serious," he defended, but his tone was anything but accusing. It was more of a statement than anything else.

 

Louis decided to indulge him; he gave Harry a small smile. "Really? What about me?"

 

Harry frowned, his face going thoughtful once more. After a moment or two, he looked at Louis once again. "You know that time in Maths when Ms. Mason asked you why this class infuriated you so much, and you said you could show her better than you could tell her? Then you gave her the finger in front of the entire class?" Louis laughed a bit at the memory. "This is one of those instances."

 

Louis got a confused vibe about him. "Are you—are you going to flip me off, Harry?" he asked, his voice only a little teasing.

  


Harry shook his head quickly. "No. Not that," he was quick to interject. "I mean—I could show you better than I could tell you."

 

 

Louis had barely gotten a good understanding of what was going on before Harry was sitting up and smiling the brightest smile Louis had ever seen. He crawled toward Louis, stopping when his knees were against Louis' thigh. Louis could only watch as Harry brought a hand to his face and stroked his thumb against his cheek in the most gentle of ways.

 

He kept his hand there, bringing up the other to cup Louis' face in his hands and kissed him slowly, sensually. He pulled away, looking into Louis' eyes. "I love you, Louis," he whispered. "And I want you to make love to me."

 

Louis breath had already left him after the first statement, so by the time he heard the second he thought he could die. Here was the perfect human being, the most beautiful thing to ever walk this earth, more than Louis could ever deserve, telling him he loved him and was ready to give Louis everything he had.

 

They'd never even done anything before; no blow jobs, no hand jobs, no rimming, not even showered together. Louis had wanted to, of course, on numerous occasions but he was going Harry's pace and Harry's pace was much slower than Louis'. Which was why he was surprised that Harry was asking to go all the way right now, in his little bedroom with the last bits of the afternoon sun shining through the window.

 

Louis swallowed, his words caught in his throat. He wanted to say so many things, to tell Harry he felt the same way, that he would love nothing more than to do just that, that he wouldn't unless Harry was sure because he wouldn't want to take something from Harry he could never get back.

 

They'd had the sex talk a few weeks ago, under Harry's approval. They'd established that neither of them had ever went all the way, but Louis had some experience with the other, smaller things. Harry on the other hand, was the definition of a blushing virgin, a fact Louis found quite fun to point out—not teasingly, but more of a way to see the adorable pink color rise in his cheeks.

 

 

Louis bit his lip, finally muttering the words, "I love you, too, Harry."

 

He had no idea how to address the second part, so he settled for kissing Harry again.

 

Louis brought his hands to Harry's sides, placing his hands on his hips. He didn't do it for control, he only held him. He liked touching Harry, even when it had been diminished to only safe-zones up until now, and he couldn't get enough.

 

Harry moved to straddle Louis, kissing him with more meaning than before. This wasn't their usual _I-want-to-say-so-many-things-to-you-right-now -but-I'm-afraid_ kiss, but a _we've-said-these-things-and-I-want-you-to-know-how-much-I-mean-them_ kiss.

 

Harry very cautiously put his hands on Louis' chest, not pushing him away but just _keeping_ him where he was. He placed a quick peck to his lips before straightening his back. He gripped the hems of his shirt, tossing it over his head and letting it hit the floor in one fluid motion.

 

Louis praised Harry's body, from his four nipples down to his butterfly tattoo. He ran his fingers over the ink, as if he might actually feel the indentions of wings, but it was only smooth like the rest of Harry's body. He trailed his hands over the crevices his abs made, tracing them as if they were outlines to an unfinished masterpiece—and in Louis' eyes, they were. He didn't think there was enough time in the world to appreciate such a glorious body.

 

 

Harry had become a little self-concious of his body during the time Louis had been observing him, mistaking his appreciation for rude staring at something he found disgusting. Kissing him seemed like the only viable distraction.

 

But, no, Louis was having none of it. He allowed Harry to kiss him, but used his strength to his advantage by flipping them so Harry was beneath him. He tore his mouth from Harry's but wasted no time in reconnecting it with his skin, planting countless kisses to his neck. He began to suck a bruise into his collarbone, indulging in the little gasps Harry was letting out.

 

He trailed his mouth down to his chest, past the tattoo, and to the happy trail at the bottom of his abdomen. He vaguely wondered where the trail would lead him, but he already knew the answer and that only fueled him more than before.

 

He kissed his way back up to Harry's chest, instinctively taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking lightly, using his hand to pay attention to the one he couldn't cover with his mouth. Harry was actually panting by now, but his eyes were still trained on Louis like his life depended on it.

 

Louis popped off long enough to breathe out, "So beautiful, Haz," before he put his mouth to the neglected nipple and nibbled at the hardened nub.

 

"Mm," Harry let out in response, which was pretty good considering his whole thought process was centered around Louis and nothing else.

 

Louis removed his mouth once again, instead pressing his lips to Harry's. Harry allowed himself to kiss him back for only a moment until he remembered that he was topless and Louis wasn't and that was a problem.

 

"Lou," he murmured against his mouth, tugging at the edge of his tank-top. "Please."

 

Louis made a point of removing his shirt agonizingly slow for Harry, smirking a bit inwardly at Harry's sighs of impatience.

 

Once the shirt was removed, Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' back and pulled, pressing their bare chests together. He connected their lips again because he really didn't know what else to do and was letting Louis handle this situation, happy to be submissive.

 

When Louis began to play with the button of Harry's jeans, it took all Harry had not to rip them off and strip Louis naked himself. Instead, he rolled his hips up into Louis', eliciting a moan from the both of them. The sounds got tangled together between the kisses and the mere contact.

 

Harry gripped at Louis' belt loops, using them to keep their crotches as close together as possible. He rutted his hips one more time before unbuttoning Louis' jeans in one movement. He flipped them once again, hovering over Louis with their lips attached. He placed a quick kiss to the column of his neck then crawled down the bed until he was staring down the top of Louis' jeans. Louis simply watched, biting his lip in anticipation.

 

Harry surprised both Louis and himself by biting the zipper and pulling it down with his teeth. He hooked his fingers through Louis' belt loops once again, yanking down his pants until they were around his ankles. Louis kicked them the rest of the way off as Harry placed a kiss to his straining cock through the fabric of his boxers and _fuck_ , for a virgin, Harry really knew what he was doing.

 

He continued to mouth at Louis' erection through the boxers, wondering if he was doing it right and more importantly if Louis was feeling good. That was really all he wanted.

 

Then Louis moaned, and his boxers were becoming damp with precome. Harry smiled, satisfied with himself for causing it.

 

"Please, Harry," Louis breathed, partly a plea and partly a whimper. "Take off those stupid clothes."

 

Harry got on his knees at the end of the mattress, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off as quickly as possible. Louis actually whined at how much he wanted Harry in that moment, sitting up and gripping at Harry's hips. He toyed with the waistband of his boxers. "Those, too."

 

Harry shyly slid the boxers down about mid-thigh before Louis took matters into his own hands and all but ripped them off and tossed them to the ground. He stared for a few seconds at Harry's dripping cock, his gaze hungry. He smiled the biggest smile he'd ever worn while looking up at Harry before ghosting his fingers over his length.

 

Harry sucked in a breath, his gaze falling down to where Louis' hands were touching him. Louis ran his thumb over the tip, careful to be gentle at this point because Harry probably wanted exactly the opposite and this couldn't be over yet.

 

He moved his hands upward, resting them on Harry's shoulders. He snaked his arms around his neck, pulling him closer until their noses were brushing. Harry leaned in for a kiss, but Louis turned away, smirking. He craned his neck until they were face to face once again, doing nothing but breathing heavily in each other's faces until Louis couldn't contain himself and attacked Harry's mouth with his.

 

Somewhere between the rushed kisses and the impromptu touches, Harry managed to slip Louis out of his boxers. They were both finally naked, new territory for each of them, and admiring every inch of skin the other had to offer. Harry's hands traveled up and down Louis' sides, even gripping his bum once or twice, while Louis stayed focused on Harry's spine and endless legs.

 

Louis placed another kiss to Harry's neck, then pulled away in sudden realization. "I don't have lube," he murmured.

 

Harry turned pink. He crawled off of Louis, reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a small bottle. He kept his eyes downcast as he resumed his position on top of Louis.

 

"I've, um... been hoping this would happen for a while," Harry admitted, his cheeks burning. "I thought I should be prepared for, uh, whatever."

 

Louis kissed him again then because his boyfriend was prepared and the fact that he'd been planning this was both incredibly adorable and incomparably sexy. "I really love you, Harry," he muttered against his mouth. He kissed his jaw once. "Wait. What about protection?" he asked, the panic back in his voice.

 

Harry was still tomato red. "I thought of that, too." A pause. "Neither of us have been sleeping around, and it's not like I can get pregnant, so I figured we'd be fine without it?"

 

Louis grinned. He felt like there was a sort of trust boundary being crossed here, one Harry had all but destroyed, and it felt amazing to have the person he loved give it to him so raw, whole. He brought his lips to Harry's ear. "Lay down on your back, love."

 

Harry was on his back before Louis had even opened the bottle he'd nabbed from Harry's grasp a few seconds prior. He popped open the lid and squeezed a hefty amount onto his fingers and warming it, dead set on making this as comfortable for Harry as he could. Harry watched him as if he were the sun itself, but that had become normal for him.

 

Once he was satisfied with the temperature, Louis slid a finger over Harry's hole but didn't press inside. Harry whimpered, nodding his consent to Louis. "Please," he rasped out, his voice so wrecked from how turned on he was and it was one of the best sounds Louis had ever heard.

 

Ever the obedient boyfriend, Louis gently slipped a finger into Harry. Harry kept his eyes closed, his lips slightly-parted. He seemed to be feeling good at the moment, and that encouraged Louis to pump it in and out.

 

Harry began to let out small, breathy moans at Louis' finger brushing his walls, feeling himself clench around him. It was too much, yet not enough at the same time so Harry only deemed it fit to request another.

 

Louis was quick to comply, adding in his middle finger with his index. He moved them in slow, teasing circles while scissoring them in and out. Harry risked opening his eyes because he wanted to _see_ his boyfriend doing all of these things to him. It turned out to be a good idea because Louis looked so hot, so ready, but also a bad one because it made Harry feel that much closer to orgasm. He screwed his eyes shut after that.

 

"Are you okay, Haz?" Louis asked lowly, noticing his expression and taking it as he'd done something wrong. He stopped moving his fingers.

 

"Mm, more than okay, Lou," he got out. "Please, keep going."

 

Louis laughed to himself, deciding to add in a third finger this time. By now, Harry's eyes were clenched, with a stray tear running down the side of his face. Louis quickly used the hand that wasn't inside of Harry to wipe it away, leaning up to kiss his neck as a distraction from the simultaneous pleasure and pain he must be feeling.

 

Harry stopped crying soon, even pushing back onto Louis' fingers in efforts to get more. The uncomfortable feeling had been overridden with the good, Louis guessed. Smiling as he removed his fingers, because Harry looked about ready to come and Louis knew that would bring about his own orgasm.

 

Harry's eyes darted open when Louis wasn't touching him anymore, practically whining at the loss. Louis noticed, quickly leaning forward and kissing the butterfly one more time—he didn't think he'd ever get enough of Harry's inked skin—before whispering, "This might hurt a little, babe, and I want you to tell me if it gets too uncomfortable." Harry nodded, but that wasn't enough for Louis. "Promise me." Harry nodded again. "I promise."

 

 

Louis smiled, slicking himself up with the lube. He hooked his hands underneath Harry's knees, giving Harry a reassuring look before tossing them over his open legs to have better access to Harry's entrance. Louis kept their eyes locked, rubbing up and down his thighs as if to say, "Last chance to back out." Harry smiled, clasping his ankles together behind Louis and pulling him the slightest bit closer as his way of replying.

 

Louis gripped Harry's hips in his hands, holding him in place. Lining himself up Harry's entrance, he slipped only the tip inside. Harry keened softly at the intrusion, while Louis full-blown moaned. He gave Harry a minute to recover before slowly sliding in even further.

 

Damn it, Harry had _seen_ how big Louis was only a few minutes ago; it shouldn't be that big of a deal right now. But Harry was a virgin, and Louis was pretty large, larger than his fingers had been. So the stretch was a bit overwhelming.

 

"S-stop for a little," Harry managed to say. Louis immediately stopped, staying as still as possible. "Are you alright?"

 

Harry nodded. "Mhmm, it's just..." he trailed off, facing Louis. "Well, you're big."

 

Louis felt stupid for blushing when he was already halfway inside of Harry. He gave Harry as long as he thought he needed, suffering through the wait in silence with a few smiles and stolen glances here and there. He was about to ask Harry if he could keep going yet because just _sitting_ inside of him was pure torture, but Harry gestured for him to move and Louis didn't hesitate, cautiously pushing the rest of the way in.

 

Harry murmured a string of words that Louis was pretty sure contained one or two curses. Any other time, Louis would've teased, made a joke. But right now he was balls deep inside of Harry with him moaning his name, so it really wasn't on his list of things to do at the moment.

 

"God, please move, Louis," Harry breathed. Louis pulled out of Harry until he risked coming out completely before he snapped his hips up into him again. Harry groaned once again, while Louis moreso grunted at how _tight_ Harry was. They were both reduced to a panting mess by the second thrust. On the third, Louis' fingers began to dig into Harry's hips and he feared he was hurting him. But on the fourth, Harry was shouting about how much he wanted Louis to never stop, and he figured he was fine.

 

On the fifth, Louis had brushed Harry's prostate. He knew because Harry's voice got higher and airier, and he began to shudder the tiniest bit below him. Louis was intrigued, the sight of Harry being so completely wrecked plus the knowledge that _he_ had caused it was overwhelming him.

 

"You're so beautiful, Harry, I love you, I love you," he murmured through every jerk of his hips. "You're doing so well, you're perfect, I love you."

 

Harry smiled through the pleasure. "I love you, too, Louis," he whispered. Louis grinned, something about the way Harry said it giving Louis a warm, fuzzy feeling—like Harry meant it just as much as he did.

 

 

Louis' thrusts soon became sloppier, quicker. He was so close to coming, he could feel the heat in the pit of his stomach. But he wanted Harry to come first, just so he could truly appreciate the beauty of the moment; he took one hand from Harry's hips and wrapped it around his leaking member, starting to move his hands up and down the length of it. Harry began to moan louder, panting faster.

 

"Louis," he murmured as he spilled his load all over Louis' hands and chest, some dripping onto his abdomen. He tried to even out his breathing as he came down from his high.

 

Louis could feel Harry clenching around him now. With one final thrust and Harry muttering a, "Come for me, beautiful," Louis was filling Harry up.

 

He was breathless by now, but that was just how Harry made him feel. He took Louis' breath away and now was no different.

 

Slipping out of Harry before it got too uncomfortable for either of them, he collapsed on the bed beside of him. He was exhausted now, to be honest, but it was probably because he'd just had the best sex of his life with the best man to ever walk the earth. Harry seemed pretty tired too, with the way his eyes would flutter closed every few seconds but he'd open them back and look at Louis like he was convincing himself what had just happened wasn't a dream. Louis understood. He felt the same way.

 

Louis planted a sweet kiss to Harry's lips. This seemed to encourage Harry to speak. "If I go to sleep now, will you be here when I wake up?"

 

Louis smiled, resting his head on Harry's chest. "Of course I will," he muttered as if speaking too loudly would ruin the moment. "I'll be here as long as you want me to be, Harry."

 

Harry kissed the top of Louis' head. "I love you, Boo," he whispered.

 

Louis laughed. "I love you, too, Hazza," he replied, letting his eyes drift closed. And, yeah, they should probably clean up because they'll wake up in the morning covered in dried come, or at least put some clothes on because Anne would probably walk in in the morning to check on her son and find them naked under a blanket nestled together as snuggly as possible. But they were in love with each other, and that gave them enough peace of mind to fall asleep wordlessly.

 

~~~

 

Anne had found them that next morning, Louis knew, because he'd been awoken by the bedroom door being closed as quietly as possible and it couldn't have been Gemma because she'd assured them all last night that whether her date went well or was a total bust, she was sleeping over at a friend's house afterward.

 

And when he'd finally gotten the balls to wake Harry up, they'd agreed they both needed a shower and suddenly turned very conservative about water, deciding a double shower was better for both themselves and the environment. Then once they were inside, they cared less and less about going green and more and more about each other. So if they had to waste a little more water because Louis had gotten on his knees halfway through the shower and made Harry come undone, nobody had to know. And if Harry had decided to return the favor, well, that could be their secret, too.

 

Anne had a hunch when both of the boys showed up for breakfast with pink lips, wet hair, and almost thirty minutes after she'd made the food to begin with. Even though she'd already had her breakfast, she'd sat and waited on the two of them, intent on having a talk. When Harry noticed, he reached for Louis' hand and squeezed as a sort of warning.

 

They took their seats and waited for fire to catch.

 

"Johannah called," she'd said casually, directing her words to Louis. He kept his eyes on his food, scarily intimidated by Harry's mother as he had been since day one. She'd accepted him with open arms, but he was still nervous every time he was around her. "She was wondering where you were."

 

"Mmm," Louis agreed, feeling his cheeks heat up. "And?"

 

"I called her back this morning and told her you had fallen asleep," Anne answered. Louis felt the tension leave his body as soon as she'd finished. "But then I told her the whole story."

 

Harry spoke up, coughing to get her attention. "Which was?"

 

Anne smiled. "I think you both know," she murmured. Both Harry and Louis were red by now, but they still had their hands clasped underneath the table and that was comforting in its own way. "We agreed that we hadn't realized how serious you two were, and deemed it best for our families to get to know each other now rather than later," she continued. "And since Harry, Gemma, and I moved away from the rest of our family when we arrived here, and considering that it'd be easier on everyone to stay in-town for the holidays, she invited us over to hers for Christmas."

 

They both perked up at that, their embarassment momentarily forgotten. "Really?" Harry asked. He ran his fingers over Louis' hand, smiling. "What did you say?"

 

"I told her I'd think about it," she said. "But I wanted to ask both you and Gemma first."

 

Harry turned his attention to Louis, because he didn't want to do anything that would upset his boyfriend. Secretly, though, he really hoped Louis wouldn't have a problem because he wanted to spend Christmas with his loved ones, and that included Louis. "Would you be okay with that, Lou?"

 

"Of course," Louis answered immediately, looking Harry in the eyes with a smile. Remembering that Anne was there, however, he addressed her, too. "Mum always makes enough for fifty people, anyway," he paused. "I'd really like for you to bring your family, Ms. Cox."

 

Anne smiled. "I've told you before to call me Anne," she said with a warm smile. "But after what I saw this morning, Ms. Cox is sounding better and better."

 

Louis blushed. "Sorry, Ms. Cox," Louis murmured, followed by a, "Sorry, Mum," from Harry.

 

"Just don't let it happen again," she said. "At least not when you know I'll be home soon," she amended. She turned around after that, and Louis kissed Harry quickly before finishing the rest of his food.

 

~~~

 

Christmas came quicker than either of them had ever thought. Once the first snowflake landed that morning, Harry had jumped out of bed like a five-year-old would've and quickly woke his mother and sister up, shouting that it was Christmas and he was hungry, but they all knew he just wanted to hurry so he could see Louis sooner.

 

After receiving Gemma's consent ("Sounds cool. Can I bring that Irish guy with me? He's fun enough, and it only seems fair since flower boy over here will be all over Lou."), Anne had called and made plans with Johannah, which turned into Johannah extending her offer for the entire day, starting with breakfast. Anne had politely declined at first, but Johannah was persistent and managed to talk her into it in minutes.

 

Harry dressed in a jumper for the weather and a pair of jeans, but still resting a crown of flowers (poinsettias for the Christmas spirit) on top of his head. He was beyond ready to see Louis, having gone without him for an entire day on his mother's behalf ("Come on, I want at least Christmas Eve to be spent as a family."). So he'd took it upon himself to make sure Anne and Gemma were dressed and ready to go by seven.

 

He checked one last time for his present for Louis—even though the older boy had requested Harry not go out of his way for anything—and once he'd made sure it was there, he gave his mother the okay to drive.

 

 

When they got there, Niall had already arrived and Harry predicted Zayn and Liam would be over at a later time after spending some alone time with their families as well. Since Louis hadn't mentioned any other guests, Harry assumed he would be fine for the day.

 

He let his mother and sister enter first, but as soon as he walked through the door, Louis was there, staring at Harry and grinning like an idiot.

 

"What?" Harry asked, suddenly worried. "Something on my face?"

 

Louis shook his head, laughing. He then pointed upwards and smiled. Harry quirked his eyebrow and looked up, finding a mistletoe and giggling to himself. "Really, Lou? Mistletoe? If you wanted to kiss me, you know all you have to do is—"

 

 

Louis cut him off by pressing their lips together and wrapping his arms around Harry's neck, using his shoulders to push himself up onto his tiptoes. He let the kiss linger long enough to give Harry surprise, but not so long that it would make anyone else in the room feel awkward. When he pulled away, he still had that same idiotic grin. "Sorry for interrupting, but rules are rules," he finished in regards to the mistletoe.

 

"You planned this," Harry accused, poking Louis in the sides.

 

"I would never," Louis murmured innocently. He pecked Harry's lips one last time, kissing him deeper this time. He snaked his hands into Harry's hair, Harrry groaning a little bit at the touch. But then Louis' hands were gone and his crown, too, he was pretty sure. His suspicions were only confirmed when the kiss ended and Louis now had flowers resting on top of his head.

 

"Sorry, it was too tempting not to," he apologized, smiling the tiniest bit.

 

"Don't be sorry," Harry muttered, adjusting the crown. "Looks better on you anyway."

 

Louis could only smile. "Doubtful, but sweet." He kissed his cheek. "Come on. Mum made breakfast and she'll flip shit if we don't show up."

 

Harry allowed Louis to pull him into the kitchen, where it seemed everyone else had already made themselves comfortable. Harry searched for his family, finding that Anne had opted for the seat beside of Johannah (those two had become quick friends, something that delighted Harry ever time he saw them interact) and Gemma near the other end of table beside of Niall, who seemed to be chatting her up. They both looked like they were enjoying themselves, something that made Harry unbelievably happy.

 

"Would you like to sit?" Louis asked, tugging at Harry's hand when he noticed his zoned-out expression. Harry gave Louis his full attention then; he was smiling up at Harry so peacefully, so joyfully, that Harry couldn't do anything but agree.

 

Louis had only started to walk them to their seats when, of course, one of his little sisters had to stop him by tugging at his pants. He looked down at his feet to find Daisy looking up at him curiously. Sighing, he gave Harry a smile and leaned down to see what his sister wanted.

 

(And Harry may have taken a quick glance at his bum when he did.)

 

"Yeah?" he whispered, his hands between his knees as he leaned towards his sister. She touched the top of his head, right on the flower crown, and whispered, "It's pretty," in a tone of wonder and full of awe.

 

Louis smiled, pointing his thumb behind him. "Harry made it."

 

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping. " _Made_ it?"

 

Louis nodded. "Yeah. He's good with his hands," he paused, turning to wink at his boyfriend. "Really good." Harry only stared on confusedly.

 

As soon as he'd confirmed that Harry had in fact _made_ the crown, Daisy forgot all about Louis and poked Harry's leg. Harry bent down and nearly sat on his feet so he was on the same level as her and smiled. "Yes?"

 

She pointed at Louis' head. "You made that?"

 

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Louis played thief, though," he paused to give Louis a pointed look, but one that also conveyed his nonchalance about the situation. Louis still blushed under his gaze. Daisy was still staring at him expectantly when he returned his eyes to her.

 

"It's very pretty," she said so longingly that Harry physically felt the want radiating from her. He could only smile reassuringly. "I could make you one after breakfast. Even teach you how, if you want. Just need some flowers."

 

Daisy's grin enveloped her entire face. "Thank you, Harry!" she shouted, giving him a hug before skipping away.

 

As soon as Harry was standing straight once again, Louis was attacking him in a hug. Harry staggered back, laughing but wrapping his arms around Louis nonetheless. Louis kissed his cheek, all the way up to his ear, where he paused to whisper, "You help Daisy with the crown, fine, but then you're mine."

 

Harry could only smile, his face turning red. "Lou... your family's right there..."

 

It was Louis' turn to chuckle. "Fuck them."

 

Harry turned a deeper shade of red, licking his lips. "I'd rather you fuck something else."

 

Louis' face began to heat up. He pulled away so that Harry could see his face, biting his lip. "Don't tempt me."

 

He literally fluttered away, and usually it was Harry to be the tease in this relationship, but now the roles were reversed and Harry wasn't about to stop it.

 

~~~

 

Breakfast went perfectly, much to Louis' surprise. Usually his family was loud and obnoxious during holidays, and even worse when he brought a friend or boyfriend over, so he hadn't even hoped for a nice meal when they were moshed together. Maybe it was like English class, two negatives make a positive or some shit like that.

 

Keeping true to his word, however, Louis had to lose Harry as soon as the meal was over to his sister yanking on Harry's shirt, presenting him with a few flowers. Harry had simply grinned when she'd shown up, lifted her up into his arms and lead them to another room where they had more workspace, though crown-making was a craft that needed little to no space. Louis figured he'd left because he knew if he stayed he'd get nothing done—Louis had been groping his thigh throughout breakfast, so maybe his hasty departure was smart of him.

 

 

Louis leaned back, deciding he'd join Harry after a little while, long enough for his sisters (Phoebe just _had_ to join) to manage a crown before he ruined their little lesson. He did like them after all, and he figured the polite thing to do would be repress his sexual urges until then.

 

He found himself sitting back and staring across the room; his mother was talking animatedly to Anne, occasionally jabbing his stepdad in the side to get him to join in. Anne was smiling and agreeing, seeming to enjoy herself. Lottie was conversing with Gemma and Niall—or she was talking to Gemma while Niall sat there and made stupid faces at her behind Gemma's head, causing her to laugh every now and then. 

 

 

Liam and Zayn had shown up just after breakfast, thankfully. Zayn was staring into the back of a spoon, becoming easily fascinated and poking Fizzy in the side until she paid attention and took the spoon for herself. His arm was wrapped around Liam's waist, whose gaze was flicking from Niall to Zayn, pausing to sigh, but the sigh would always turn into a smile full of fondness.

 

He could only take a few more minutes of silently watching everyone before he missed Harry too much to ignore—yeah, maybe he had dependency issues when it came to Harry, but it was mutual so he couldn't bring himself to feel too ashamed.

  


When he entered the room, Harry didn't even flinch. He simply kept his focus solely on the crown, and showing Louis' younger sisters the correct way to intertwine the stems so they wouldn't come undone. It was like he was in Harry world—a place that Louis was sure if he inquired Harry about, he'd hear something ridiculously cute about fairy dust and glitter, with a field of flowers built specifically for frolicking in somewhere to the side. 

 

 

Instead of mentioning any of this to Harry, he took a seat on the floor beside of him and bumped his side. "Whatcha doing?"

 

Harry smiled without letting his eyes leave his project. "Working," he said. "It's very professional business, so you can only stay if you promise not to be a distraction." His mouth had begun to twitch into a smirk once he finished speaking, letting Louis know he had only been joking. But Louis' sisters were still in the room, so he decided to play along.

 

"I'll promise, but you can't hold me to it, Styles," Louis finished, sitting cross-legged on the ground beside of Harry. He began to rub his knee against Harry's, subtle to the normal eye, but he could tell Harry could feel it by the way he'd shift every now and then. Louis only smirked in those moments, wrapping his sweater tighter around himself and giggling quietly.

 

"Yeah, wrap it around the stem like that—not too tight, though. Don't want it to get under pressure and snap." Harry smiled as he taught Phoebe to assemble the crown—Daisy had been a quick learner, finishing her crown within minutes and presumably taking it to show to everyone in the house. Phoebe wasn't as fast of a learner, but Harry was happy to go whatever pace she needed.

 

 

Which was frustrating for Louis when all he wanted to do was give Harry his Christmas present in the comfortable privacy of his room, and maybe suck him off as a bonus. It wasn't all that much to ask, especially on Christmas, but Harry seemed to be more invested in helping his sister than he was helping _Louis._ And that didn't set well with him.

 

This was how Louis learned he was really protective of Harry, and with the protectiveness came a sense of jealousy at his attention being on any one but him.

 

Yeah, definite depency issues budding.

 

Louis watched anxiously, anticipating the moment Harry would be finished so he could whisk him away to his bedroom and shower him with affection. But then Harry just _had_ to insist on braiding her hair, which put a smile on his sister's face and filled her with the utmost delight while Louis couldn't have been more impatient.

 

But since it was Christmas, he put his sister ahead of himself and suffered in silence while Harry informed him of what a Dutch braid was. Turns out it was one of the more time-consuming ones he'd learned from the days Gemma made him braid her hair, which had done nothing to alleviate Louis' growing impatience.

 

"I'll add the crown, then we're done. Okay?"

 

Louis' sigh was surely visibly relieved.

 

"Oh, wait, looks like I missed a—"

  


Louis couldn't contain himself any longer. He got up, resting his chin on Harry's shoulder and whispering—because even in this fit of frustration, he knew shouting curse words near all of the children could bring nothing remotely good to anyone. "I've been wanting to fucking suck you off for two hours, and you've kept your focus on my sister's fucking _hair_ , Harry." He paused when he felt Harry shudder; whether it was from Louis' words, or his breath on his neck, he didn't know. "I'm heading to my room, and if you aren't there within ten minutes, I'm going to get off without you, Curly." 

 

 

He pulled away from Harry long enough to smirk to himself, then bounded up the stairs into his room, locking the door without checking to see if Harry was following him. He threw himself on his bed, out of breath and just _horny_ , and it was a bad combination when he didn't have his boyfriend's naked body beside of him.

 

A few minutes passed, and Louis was only growing harder and harder. He finally gave up on Harry coming—the stinging feeling of rejection crawled under his skin—and began to undo his trousers. He whimpered as the zipper brushed over his erection, then full-on groaned when he couldn't get the friction he so desperately wanted.

 

 

His door was thrown open at this point, and Louis momentarily worried about the beginnings to an awkward situation, but then Harry was walking in and locking the door behind him and Louis practically whined.

 

Harry hurried over to the bed, hungrily kissing Louis' mouth. "Why didn't you wait for me, babe?" he asked, only seeming half-interested in Louis' answer as his attention was focused on Louis' hands.

 

"Didn't—ah—think you were gonna—ngh—show," he managed to get out between gasps and moans at Harry's hand palming Louis through his boxers.

 

 

Harry laughed, causing his hand to slip up only a bit and give Louis more friction than intended. Louis only moaned softly, bucking his hips into his boyfriend's touch. "When you've been teasing me all day and offer to suck me off? I'll always show up for that," he said, kissing the column of Louis' neck. "Or if you're allowing me to blow you. Either way, m'there," he murmured.

 

Louis tilted his head to the side, giving Harry easier access to his neck. "Weren't fast enough," he rasped out.

 

Harry nibbled on his ear lobe. "I was telling everyone we were about to exchange gifts so they wouldn't disturb us for a while," he said, then shrugged. "It was only a half-lie."

 

Louis chuckled at this point. "And here I was thinking you were totally innocent."

 

Harry smiled, hovering his lips over Louis'. His eyes quickly darted from Louis' eyes to his mouth then back again. "I think that was thrown out the window a long time ago, yeah?"

 

He didn't allow Louis to answer, attacking Louis' lips with his own. He grabbed Louis by the shirt, pulling him as close as possible while licking over his bottom lip. Louis opened his mouth wide, letting Harry dominate the kiss by shoving his tongue into Louis' mouth. They were both relatively quiet, save for the sounds of their mouths tangling together.

 

Harry gently rolled his hips forward, and that was all it took for their moans to get lost in their kisses. Louis pulled away only for a fraction of a second to breathily mutter a, "Do that again," to which Harry rocked into Louis a little harder. Louis whimpered, while Harry groaned almost pornographically.

 

Louis pushed his thigh upward, rubbing it only the slightest bit against Harry's erection. Harry keened softly, making himself vulnerable enough for Louis to flip them both over which Louis took full advantage of. Once Harry was on his back, Louis made quick work of unbuttoning Harry's jeans.

 

"Our f-family's down stairs," Harry muttered incoherently, but Louis noticed he wasn't making eye contact with him. He smirked, rubbing his hand over Harry's thighs.

 

"Are you asking me to stop?" he asked, knowing the answer before Harry spoke.

 

" _God_ no," Harry replied, running his hands through Louis' hair encouragingly. Louis smiled, nuzzling his nose into Harry's happy trail where his shirt had risen to just above his belly button. Louis kissed the skin, earning himself an appreciative noise of pleasure from his boyfriend.

 

Louis pulled on the edge of Harry's jumper. "Off," he muttered. Harry responded eagerly, sitting up and throwing off the article of clothing quicker than he ever had before. Louis smiled, satisfied in the knowledge that _he_ was causing this.

 

He began to run his hands over Harry through his boxers. Harry circled his hips and thrust into the touch. Louis gripped onto his hips, pushing him back down into the sheets. "Be still," he said. Harry gulped, knowing how difficult that was going to be when Louis was touching him so obscenely, but he nodded anyway.

 

Louis brought Harry's jeans down to his ankles, then gestured for Harry to remove them the rest of the way. Harry kicked them off, letting them hit the ground ungracefully. He didn't care, though, because then Louis was slipping his fingers into his boxers and pulling them down swiftly and yeah, Harry really didn't care about his pants.

 

Louis took a minute to admire Harry's body—he was long and lean, tanned and tone, and just so _beautiful_ that he couldn't resist putting his lips on him.

 

 

He bit down gently on Harry's hip bone, causing him to moan softly. Louis smiled, removing his mouth and beaming down at the mark he'd left. He kissed it softly, then continued with a trail of kisses to the base of Harry's erection.

 

He looked up to Harry one last time, receiving a furious nod of approval, and took Harry's head into his mouth. He started sucking lightly, dipping his tongue into the slit. He heard Harry whimpering softly and could feel the tension in his body as he tried to remain still.

 

Louis cleared his throat, breathing through his nose. He took Harry down until he was hitting the back of his throat. He continued to breath through his nose, bobbing his head up and down just to make sure Harry was getting pleasure. Hollowing his cheeks, he sucked to the best of his ability.

 

Harry began squirming within seconds—this was the best blowjob he'd ever had. Given that Louis was the only one to ever give him a blowjob, Harry simply thought it got better every time because he was with Louis and any time with Louis was cherished.

  


Harry tugged at Louis' hair—which surprisingly still had the crown neatly nestled on top—which was the signal Louis had come to know as Harry's, "I'm about to come," hair-pull. Louis pulled up until only the head was in once again and patted his hip gently, which was his way of saying, "Go ahead."

 

 

Harry came quickly and roughly, and Louis swallowed every drop. He pulled off at the last second, sticking out his tongue to catch the last few drops of Harry's seed, then crawled forward to kiss him. He forced his tongue into Harry's mouth (not that Harry would've objected anyway) and shared what he'd collected with Harry. Harry could only let Louis take control, and ended up with his own come in his mouth.

 

"I love you so much," Louis muttered against his ear. "You're beautiful and gentle and sweet and _perfect._ I couldn't have asked for anything better on Christmas."

 

Harry blushed, because Louis was the one always claiming to be terrible at romance and talking about his feelings but then he'd go and surprise Harry by saying something like this. It wasn't fair, how visibly wonderful Louis was to anyone who saw him.

 

"You're like a ray of sunshine," Harry replied, rubbing the pads of his thumbs against Louis' cheek. "And I thank whoever's up there every day for giving me such a wonderful boyfriend."

 

Louis turned red as well, because he wasn't used to being adored so wholly and honestly the way Harry did. He kissed the side of Harry's neck. "Stop being a sap. M'still hard."

 

Harry laughed quietly and brought his hands to Louis' bulge. Louis ended up grinding into Harry's thigh until he came in his pants. He had changed after that, right in front of Harry, and Harry redressed himself too. Once they were both clean and clothed, Louis pulled a box out of the drawer next to his bed.

 

"I was going to give you this downstairs with everyone else, but I thought it'd be more special if we exchanged gifts privately? I dunno, it just seemed like the type of romantic shit you'd eat up."

 

Harry rolled his eyes. Louis was always unsure of himself when it came to what Harry liked, and he always made some sort of joke or comment about it to try and dispell some of the awkward. Harry found it charming, though, and never commented on it.

 

"You thought right, then," he said, reaching over to kiss Louis' on the cheek. "It is the type of romantic shit I'd eat up."

 

Louis laughed. "Leave the swearing to me, babe, it doesn't suit you."

 

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, feigning anger, but then Louis was shoving the present into Harry's hands and he couldn't just _ignore_ his insistent advances.

 

"You know you didn't need to get me anything," Harry murmured. Louis scoffed. "Gemma already told me she saw you put a present in the car for me on the way here, so I don't wanna hear it."

 

Harry bit his cheek. "She wasn't _supposed_ to tell you that."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "Just open it, Curly."

 

When he pulled back the wrapping paper and opened the lid of the box, Harry was stunned. Inside was a framed, hand-drawn picture of himself in vivid detail. Everything was acurate, from his smile to his curls, right down to the petals of the flower crown on his head.

 

He was in awe.

 

"D'you like it? Zayn taught me. I annoyed him until he gave me lessons, and this was the product."

 

Harry looked up. "Is that why you had emergency study sessions all last month?"

 

Louis smiled. "You know me so well."

 

Harry leaned forward and kissed Louis as passionately as he could. When he pulled away, Louis was beaming. "I love it."

 

"Really? You don't think it's rubbish?"

 

Harry laughed. "Far from it."

 

And maybe when Harry gave Louis his present—a signed Ed Sheeran CD and a jumper of Harry's Louis had become particularly fond of—Louis kissed him breathless against the passenger door of his mum's car and thanked him endlessly. 

 

 

And maybe when they got back into the house, they sat and talked with the boys about how great of a time they were having, and how much they loved each other because it was Christmas and they had the right to get sentimental.

 

And maybe when everyone opened their presents, Niall held a mistletoe over both Louis and Harry and Liam and Zayn, and when Louis muttered a, "Already been there," Niall replied with a shrug and a, "Rules are rules."

 

And maybe when Louis kissed Harry good night, he watched the car drive away and immediately went and threw himself on his bed and grinned because this had undoubtedly been the best holiday of his existence.

 

~~~

 

After Christmas, Louis and Harry were nearly inseparable. Meaning they did practically everything together. And Louis really liked taking Harry on dates, and Harry really liked being taken on dates. They were a perfect fit.

 

Their most recently planned date happened to be to the movies to see a new horror film that Louis had chosen specifically so he could have an excuse to cuddle into Harry and get a few "It's okay, babe," kisses from his boyfriend in public. Harry was never overly affectionate when they were in the public eye—"I don't want people to get jealous that they can't kiss the cutest boy in the entire world and I can."—and Louis sometimes wanted to change that.

 

 

He kissed Harry on the cheek and assured him he'd return soon with their popcorn, telling Harry to go ahead and find a seat wherever he wanted. Harry had obliged happily and entered the screening room without complaint.

 

He ended up buying a large bucket of popcorn since Harry always insisted on sharing, and a pack of m&m's because they were Harry's favorite. He told the cashier to keep the change when he handed her a twenty, and quickly found the right room.

 

Scoping the crowd for Harry, he felt a piece of him die when he saw it.

 

Harry was hovering over a seat near the front row and laughing animatedly at something this guy was saying. Louis was the jealous type, of course, but he'd figured he could just ignore this—maybe this was a theater attendant and he was just asking for help. Yeah.

  


Wait—Louis was pretty sure you didn't give random theater guys your phone. And he was positive you didn't take his in return and begin—was Harry giving his _number_ to this guy? This attractive guy who was making Harry laugh like crazy and turn his cheeks red?

 

 

Louis bit back tears. Harry wasn't, Harry _couldn't_ be flirting with this guy while on a date with his boyfriend. No. That's just too rude and back-stabbing to be something Harry would do.

 

Except he was and Louis could see it plain as day.

 

He didn't think much after that; he turned and gave the concessions to some random lady, who thanked him, but Louis didn't hear that because he wanted to get home and cry into his pillow because he really loved Harry and that's what made it hurt.

 

He jumped into the car, looking in the passenger seat where Harry's scent still lingered and Louis ignored it and drove. So what if he was Harry's ride? Harry could go home with what's-his-face. Louis didn't care. He didn't care about Harry.

 

That's what got him—Louis _did_ care. He cared a lot. He cared so much that it hurt and he felt a literal hole in his chest because he didn't think the feelings were returned. 

  


But Harry—Harry was so _Harry_. That's what really hurt him. Harry was so kind and loving and caring and just so generally perfect that this made no sense at all. The Harry Louis knew would never do this. If anything, he'd call and tell Louis he had feelings for someone else and promise to stay friends, because he was Harry and Harry was nice. For him to just go behind his back like this made Louis feel like this was his fault.

 

 

And it probably was. He should've been sweeter, more romantic. He should've done everything he could to keep Harry because he actually _loved_ him and love seemed to make everything a million times worse.

 

When Louis got home, he ignored his mum's questioning of how his date went and stormed up the stairs. He shut and locked his door, flopping on his bed and crying into the sheets. He really loved Harry, so much that it hurt sometimes to think about it. He'd never felt so hurt, so betrayed, so depressed. He felt like he couldn't do anything about it, either, and knew he'd just have to suffer through this.

 

His first heartbreak. Done by his first serious relationship. The first person he'd had sex with. The first boyfriend his family had liked. The first boyfriend who's parents didn't hate him. The first person to make him feel anything even remotely similar to love.

 

And if he cried himself to sleep that night, that was his business and his business alone.

 

~~~

 

Harry called a lot over the next two days, and Louis didn't answer once. He was happy their date had been on a Friday, because that gave him the entire weekend to sulk and hate himself and pretend to hate Harry (because he knew no matter how hard he tried, he never could).

 

When his mum asked if he was okay, he lied to her. He had to lie a lot. And when she asked Louis if he wanted to invite Harry over for dinner Sunday evening, Louis only felt a twinge of pain. And by twinge, he meant a shit load. But he was pretty good at covering it up. Or at least he hoped so. But he probably wasn't, so he avoided his mum a lot.

 

That was a problem, though. Ignoring Johannah and the rest of his family left Louis alone all day every day. Being alone meant thinking, and thinking meant Harry, and Harry meant hurt. It wasn't a very good thought process.

 

He was really thankful for the distraction when Zayn rang him.

 

"Zayn—"

 

 

"What the fuck did you do?"

 

Louis sighed, noting Zayn's tone, and that tone was serious. He closed his eyes, shaking his head even though Zayn couldn't see. "Zayn, it's not—"

 

 

"What? It's not your fault? It's not what it looks like?" he interrupted. "Because it looks a hell of a lot like you broke Harry's heart."

 

Louis paused, feeling regret at doing that to the man he loves, but recovered quickly. "He broke mine first," he whispered, so quietly he was afraid Zayn wouldn't hear. But his reply let Louis know he did.

 

"How in the—Lou? You know that revenge is never the answer, right?" A sigh was heard from the other line. "Just get down here and fix it, okay?"

 

 

"He doesn't want me to," Louis muttered. "He has theater guy."

 

"Louis— _fuck_ , tell me what happened. Right now."

 

 

And so he did. He explained what he saw, and how sure he was it was exactly what it looked like. He told him how hurt he'd been and ran off without talking to Harry because that was the last thing he wanted to do.

 

"When you're in a relationship and you have a problem, you don't run off. No, that's the last thing you do. You fucking grow some balls and _talk it out_ because you love each other and you wanna fix everything." There was a pause of Zayn's end, and Louis could see him running his hands over his face. "You don't know what happened, Lou. And you're a fucking idiot to have ran out on him, because now you're both sobbing and crying and upset.

 

"Just talk to Harry, okay? If you two aren't speaking by tomorrow, I'm calling for an intervention. And when I intervene, I _will_ get shit done."

 

He hung up after that, and Louis sighed. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, Zayn's words setting in. He was an idiot. A total idiot. The biggest fucking idiot to have ever lived. Did he really just up and throw everything he and Harry had away because of something he'd seen? A situation he had no clue about?

 

Yeah. Big fucking dickhead didn't begin to cover it.

 

Louis borrowed the car keys from his mum—chances were Harry wouldn't take him back (he didn't deserve it after all) and he didn't want to be crying on a skate board on his way home for everyone to see. Johannah must've understood fairly easily and gave the keys to Louis without question.

 

 

The entire drive was silent, save for Louis' worriesome thoughts. When Harry's house came into view, the thoughts only got worse.

 

 

He'll hate you.

 

This is stupid.

 

You're a fucking asshole.

 

Turn around, idiot.

 

He pushed through them because Harry was inside of that house and he needed to explain himself because Harry deserved at least that.

 

Opening his car door, he nearly fell trying to get out. His mind was fuzzy, what with all of the shit clouding it, and he felt like he could throw up at any minute. He was a teenager in love, and disgusted with himself.

 

He eventually got up the nerve to knock on the door, and he hoped and prayed Anne and Gemma weren't home because he couldn't deal with their disproving looks. But Anne's car wasn't in the driveway, so he could only hope.

 

"Louis?"

 

Louis looked up when he heard Harry's gravelly voice from the door. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and wet and Louis caused that. He almost broke down into tears right then and there, but he didn't deserve Harry's sympathy that the latter would undoubtedly give.

 

"I fucked up, didn't I?"

 

And there it was. It wasn't an _I'm sorry_ or an _I love you_ or even an _I'm an idiot, please forgive me._ It was a statement, one Louis wished he could take back.

 

"Uh," Harry murmured, at a loss for words. "You sort of did."

 

"I'm so sor—"

 

 

"His name was Nick," Harry interrupted, his voice surprisingly even. "Theater guy? Zayn called."

 

"Oh," was all Louis could manage to get out, and if he felt like crying before he could sob by now. Not only was Harry with a new guy, but he didn't even care enough to tell Louis. It's not like they were broken up, either; neither of them had established that. Unless Harry just decided to forget Louis and move on, in which case Louis wouldn't blame him.

 

"He went to my old school. One of my best friends," Harry paused. "My only friend, really. When I moved, we lost touch because of the ridiculous phone lines. But he bumped into me, and we decided to exchange numbers since he had a new phone."

 

Louis really felt like a dick now. "Harry..."

 

"He asked me what I was doing there all alone. I told him I wasn't. Told him I was with my boyfriend. I must've talked about you all through the previews, but he never told me to stop. Once I was done, he told me I looked happy. I agreed," he muttered, smiling weakly. "But then you never came back, and I ended up having to get a ride from him."

 

Louis felt a tear roll down his cheek because he _really_ fucked up. "I didn't mean to... I didn't want any of that to happen. I just—I saw another guy, an _attractive_ guy, talking to you and I jumped to conclusions. Because you're—you're _perfect_ , Harry, and I'm... I'm just Louis, and you have every reason to leave me."

 

 

"Louis, no," Harry said, effectively ending Louis' rant. "You've been everything to me, Lou. You _are_ my everything. I love you." He creased his eyebrows. "Why would I _ever_ want to leave you?"

 

Louis shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "Lots of reasons. Like—"

 

 

"If you're about to make a list of reasons why you're anything but perfect, please stop now," Harry cut him off, smiling inwardly. "The only thing wrong with you is you're insecurities. _Unnecessary_ insecurities," he corrected.

 

Louis shook his head, but his face was red. "I'm—I'm really sorry, Harry. I ruined everything. I made us both wallow all weekend, and I should've come to you in the first place instead of running away."

 

 

"You should've," Harry agreed softly. "But you're here now, and that's what matters."

 

Louis smiled sheepishly, rocking on his heels. "So are we okay?"

 

Harry pulled him into a deep, bone-crushing hug. "We're better than okay, Lou," he whispered into his neck, then placed a gentle, sweet kiss there. "As long as you'll have me, we'll be okay."

 

Louis smiled, maneuvering his head so he could plant a kiss to Harry's lips. "You're stuck with me, then," he said.

 

"I think I can manage," Harry replied, and kissed him again slowly and languidly because that's what you do when you're in love—you solve your problems, then you make up for lost time.

 

 

And the next day when all of the boys were crowded around the lunch table and Harry was giving a speech about the dangers of alcoholism to a hungover Niall, Zayn gave Louis a thumbs up over the table, and Louis clung a little closer to his beautiful boyfriend.

 

~~~

 

Louis and Harry quickly discovered they weren't the fighting type—after that first little spat a couple months ago, they'd rarely fought since. They weren't even _really_ fights; it was more like one or two squabbles over who was more gorgeous, who deserved who more, etc.

 

 

Things were going great for them, so it was no surprise that Louis wanted to take Harry on a holiday over break.

 

Louis had had to beg his parents for weeks before they even let Louis _think_ about taking him. But, Louis had recently turned eighteen and had always been a rather trustworthy child, and they trusted Harry with their son's well-being. So they agreed to let them go wherever they wanted as long as it was within Europe and pay for all expenses for the two of them. That night, Louis couldn't sleep from his excitement.

 

Anne, however, was another story.

 

She trusted Louis just as much as Jay trusted Harry, of course. But she loved her little boy, knew how he was, and was terrified something bad would happen and end with her never seeing her baby again. But Louis was persuasive, even went as far as to buy a laptop for Anne (she wasn't that big on technology) so they could Skype everyday. She'd wanted to refuse the gift, but her worriesome feelings were too adamant about her son's safety to say no.

 

By the end of _that_ night, Louis and Harry were kissing each other breathless because by this time next week, they'd be in Paris—"Because the Eiffel Tower is _romantic_ , Louis." And Louis really couldn't fight with that.

 

 

They packed that Friday night, and planned to leave Saturday afternoon. Both of their families had woken up extra early, joined together in Anne's backyard and had a going-away party of sorts, to which Louis had rolled his eyes and said, "It's only a week, Mum." But all of the boys had shown up, and Louis couldn't be angry.

 

Except for when Niall slipped him a box of condoms under the table and winked, and Harry and Louis both were beet red, but that was something to deal with another time.

 

The party was over within a few hours, and they'd both received multiple hugs—mostly from their parents. 

 

 

"You're acting like I'm never coming back," Harry had whispered to Anne when she pulled him into another embrace.

 

"This is the first time you'll be on holiday without me, baby boy," she replied. "I'm worried."

 

"I'll be with Louis," Harry said. "He won't let anything bad happen to me."

 

"I know," she murmured, then kissed his cheek. "Call everyday, okay?"

 

Harry nodded. "I'll be fine, Mum."

 

She kissed his cheek one last time, for good measure. "You'd better be."

 

Gemma had done something similar, except she made no promises of calling—"I get a week without seeing your bloody awful face; don't ruin it by reminding me you still exist with a phone call."

 

 

Harry smiled. "I'll miss you, too, Gem."

 

Gemma couldn't refrain and jumped onto Harry, enveloping him in the best hug he'd ever received from his sister. "Don't die, okay?"

 

Harry laughed, and Gemma let go. It was a simple thing, really, and Harry didn't cry a bit.

 

Jay hugged Louis a little too tight and told him she loved him. His step-father had given him a handshake that evolved into an embrace and told Louis to be careful. Louis only smiled at his parents and assured him they'd both be perfectly fine. He went through a similar routine with his sisters, and only then had he cried just a little because he knew they were going to miss him.

 

The boys had come last. Liam had held them both for a while, asked them if they had everything they needed and if they were sure about this and you'd think _he_ was their mum. Niall had gone after them, and even went as far as to tell them if any French girls had the misfortune of mistaking them as straight to feel free to forward him their numbers (Gemma had looked a little jealous at that. Harry decided it was best not to question anything). Zayn offered them one of those stereotypical bro-hugs, and told them to have fun and he'd miss them. He was playing it off as miniscule, but both Harry and Louis could tell he was holding back and was probably worse than Liam on the inside.

 

Once everything was said and done, they jumped into a car Louis had borrowed from his parents (he had his skateboard, and he really didn't want an expensive car for himself) with Louis driving because Harry was afraid he'd wreck Louis' parents car. And there was no way that could be good.

 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Louis asked once he turned out of the driveway. "We spend a lot of time together, like _a lot_ a lot, but this'll be different. We won't be going back to our own individual houses at the end of the night. It'll be us, only us, all day every day for a week."

 

"That's exactly _why_ I'm going," Harry replied, his eyes watching Louis discreetly while his boyfriend drove. "If I didn't want to go, I would've said no."

 

"I don't want you to feel pressured," Louis said, looking out the corner of his eye.

 

"Like I said," Harry began. "If I didn't want to go, I would've said no."

 

"So you're sure?" Louis questioned, just to be sure.

 

"Incredibly so," he said. "I'd be a fool to pass up an opportunity of a week of solitude with only you as my company."

 

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

 

"You were meant to."

 

The airport wasn't much further away—a mile, tops. So Louis settled for playing some music (he'd unashamedly brought the CD Harry got him for Christmas) and forcing Harry to join him in a duet of _Little Bird._

 

_  
_

Around halfway through the song, they were sitting in front of the nearest airport. Louis leaned over and kissed Harry's cheek, telling him to stay put as he went to get the door for him himself.

 

"Thanks," Harry had muttered, even though he wanted to tell Louis he was perfectly capable of opening his door alone. But the gesture was sweet, and it was the thought that counts, so he stayed quiet.

 

They were seated on their plane within the hour, their luggage already stored, and their seats together in the back corner. Harry took to cuddling into Louis' side, which Louis had absolutely no problem with and even opened his arms up for Harry to get a more comfortable position. He then began playing with the ends of curls, careful to avoid the crown he still insisted on wearing, and soon Harry was falling asleep.

 

He thought about joining him, but he wasn't that tired to be honest. Plus, he didn't want to miss a second of the trip. So he settled on keeping one hand in Harry's hair, one on his knee, and his eyes on the window. And if he glanced at Harry every time he made a snoring noise and smiled on fondly, that was nobody's business.

 

The flight proved to be rather short compared to other ones Louis had been on—in the summer of '08, his parents had insisted on a trip to South America, something about learning about new cultures or something equally as educational. 

 

 

As soon as they touched down on land, Louis was jabbing Harry's side gently with his elbow. When that had no effect on the sleeping boy at all, Louis leaned over and kissed him fully on the mouth until Harry was responding lazily.

 

"We're here," he murmured against Harry's mouth. When he only received a tired grunt in return, he continued. "We're in Paris, Hazza. Together."

 

"Paris," Harry repeated, as if he was taking in the word for the first time. He slowly opened his eyes, a small smile forming on his lips when he noticed Louis looking back at him. "I speak fluent French."

 

Louis smiled. "I know. That's why you're doing all of the talking."

 

"We're in Paris, Lou," he repeated Louis' words from before. "We're in Paris together."

 

"Mhmm," Louis responded slowly. "And we need to get off the plane so we can check into our hotel."

 

Harry sleepily nodded, so Louis took it as a, "Let's go," and began to pull his boyfriend out of his seat. Harry was pretty compliant, allowing himself to be pulled upward with little resistance and even started walking on his own through the aisles to the exit of the plane. They picked up their luggage in the airport, and headed on their way out of the building.

 

Louis had been the one to hail a car as Harry was still stuck in his half-awake state. But as soon as they got to the hotel, he was bouncing with excitement.

 

"Oh my God," he murmured as they unloaded their bags from the trunk of the taxi. "Louis—we're staying in a hotel together. Alone. While in another country."

 

 

Louis laughed. "That was sort of what 'taking a holiday in Paris' meant, love."

 

Harry sighed, playfully pushing at Louis' side. "Shut up. You know what I mean." Louis only smiled at him, which gave Harry enough reason to continue. "It didn't feel, you know, _real_ until now."

 

Louis leaned over to kiss Harry's cheek. "I know," he agreed because, really, he wouldn't have even dreamed on going to a foreign country with his boyfriend of one year without any parental supervision a couple years ago. It was something new, but he relished in every second of it.

 

When they reached the desk, Harry had to take over because, while Louis knew the basics of French, Harry had passed the class with flying colors and it only made sense to let him speak in case of Louis accidentally asking the manager why he smelled like mold or something just as idiotic.

 

"Jay booked us for the thirteenth floor," Harry said once he was done speaking with the attendant at the desk. "Room twenty-one."

 

Louis nodded. He grabbed for Harry's hand and lead him to the elevator he had spotted while waiting for Harry to finish speaking. Someone would bring up their suitcases within the hour, so they were feeling the familiar drop of an elevator within seconds.

 

Harry continued stepping from foot to foot, radiating joy like no other, and Louis had to admit the feeling was catching.

 

When the elevator dinged to signal they were where they needed to be, Harry was leaping out the doors and counting down room numbers. He was walking aimlessly, then began reaching to his side in search of Louis' hand so Louis jogged to catch up and slid his hand into Harry's with ease. Harry smiled, looking to the side at him, then continuing on his journey to find their room.

 

It turned out they were near the end of the hall, four doors down from the very end. Harry had been in charge of the room key (as he had been the one the consierge gave it too) and began fumbling with the card to put it in the slot. Louis noticed his troubles and reached out with his own fingers and helped Harry steady his hand enough to slide it in. The light turned green, then there was a click and Harry opened the door. "Thanks," he murmured to Louis.

 

"Very welcome," Louis replied.

 

Then they were stepping inside of the room and _wow_ , this room was nice. And not nice like a quaint cottage on the side of a river but nice as in it had everything they could ever need. A huge King-size bed (Louis noticed only one bed was in the room and blushed a bit at that because his _Mum_ had ordered the fucking room, for Christ's sake), a small kitchen, a large bathroom with a walk-in shower and bathtub, and there was even a jacuzzi in the corner of the room.

 

Louis was definitely hugging his mother when they got back—that was, if Louis ever got the will to leave.

 

 

Harry seemed to be in a stunned silence. Louis ended up nudging his side, muttering a, "D'you like it?" to get him to speak.

 

"It's huge," he whispered back, his eyes still gazing around the room in awe. Louis could only watch him as he took it all in. But then Harry was facing him again with the largest smile Louis had ever seen. "I love it."

 

"Good," Louis murmured. Then he was kissing Harry because he was here with him and he loved him unconditionally, and Harry was kissing back with just as much enthusiasm. He licked his way into Harry's mouth, his lips falling open without hesitation. Once inside, Louis began drawing his tongue over every crevice he could find. Harry whimpered helplessly, allowing Louis to control the kiss as he usually did.

 

Louis lead them to the four-poster bed, falling backward onto the satiny sheets with Harry's body easily following.

 

They continued to kiss and love and be stuck in their own blissful world, christening the bed in the most beautiful way possible. And if they both decided to make a point of re-christening it every night, no one would care. Because they were young and in love and the rest of the world didn't matter.

 

~~~

 

"Louis?"

 

Louis was never that much of a morning person—mornings meant a whole new day full of surprises, and surprises weren't Louis' strong suit. But this voice wasn't his mother or even one of his sisters; it was sweet, angel-like voice. Louis smiled, suddenly wide awake as he remembered where he was and who he was with.

 

 

"Good morning, beautiful," he said softly, his eyes still closed as he pulled Harry closer. "Sleep well?"

 

Harry nodded. "Mhmm. But m'hungry."

 

Louis laughed. "We both know I'm the last person you should be telling. I can't cook worth shit."

 

Harry smiled. "Yeah. But we didn't bring any food with us, and I'm not going anywhere alone."

 

Louis sighed, the corner of his mouth turning upward into a grin. "Mum requested for the room to be stocked. I'm sure there's enough food to feed ten grown men in here."

 

Harry smiled. "Oh."

 

Louis finally opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep. Harry was looking at him, as he'd guessed, with his eyes wide and innocent and a deliciously beautiful smile on his lips. The smile turned into a grin when his eyes met Louis', and Louis felt a similar look grace his features.

 

He leaned forward just the slightest bit, bringing Harry's mouth to his as a form of "Good morning." He smiled all the way through it.

 

When he pulled away, Harry still had the same idiotic grin on his face. Louis liked it, though, so he couldn't complain.

 

"Are we gonna make breakfast?" Louis asked.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "You mean am I going to make breakfast while you stand there and find every way in the world to distract me?"

 

Louis nodded. "Yep."

 

Harry pecked his lips one more time. "Good. Because I wouldn't have it any other way."

 

Breakfast proved to be a difficult task—they were both still naked from the night before and neither planned on putting on any clothes anytime soon. And the kitchen was a bit of a tight squeeze, or at least that was Louis' excuse when his bare crotch would "accidentally" rub up against Harry's ass. Normally, Harry wouldn't mind the contact, but he was cooking right now and he was damn hungry, and he wasn't about to burn his food to satisfy his—or Louis'—teenage hormones.

 

 

A failed attempt and a few come-on's later, Harry had finished making their meal; he'd gone for the simple bacon and eggs routine. Louis had told him countless times throughout the process of eating it how wonderful it tasted, and maybe he'd even thrown in a few not-so-subtle hints at a blow job later, but this was Louis and Harry loved Louis.

 

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Harry had asked while he was eating the last bits of eggs from his plate.

 

Louis shrugged, swallowing a bite of bacon. "I thought we could just explore a little. You know, get a better feel of the place and decide what we wanna do before we, well, do it."

 

Harry smiled. "That sounds perfect." He paused, finally cleaning his plate. "So a romantic walk through Paris?"

 

Louis grinned in response, getting up and taking both of their now-bare plates and setting them in the sink. "Pretty much." He paused for a second, a soft 'Oh,' escaping his lips as if he'd just remembered something. "I brought a camera, too. Mum's idea. Said I'd wanna remember our first holiday together."

 

Harry bit back a grin. "You say first as if there's going to be more."

 

Louis looked to him, his face tinting red. "I'd really hope so."

 

"Me too."

 

Harry's words were followed by a long, comfortable silence in which Louis gathered an outfit from his suitcase and ended up pulling a pair of jeans and a sweater from Harry's, too. He tossed the clothes to his boyfriend, proceeding to get dressed in front of him and only pausing momentarily to watch Harry get dressed himself.

 

"Staring's rude," Harry murmured, giving Louis a not-so-subtle look but he didn't really seem all that irritated.

 

"I'd apologize," Louis began, crossing the room in a few steps. He leaned up, planting a kiss to Harry's neck. Starting to suck a mark, he said, "But I'm really not sorry."

 

Harry moaned softly, the sound just above a whisper. "Lou..."

 

Louis chose that moment to pull away but not before marveling at his work and kissing it, like a finishing touch. "Paris isn't going to explore itself, Harry. Best not get caught up in the hotel room." He patted Harry on the bum, winking over his shoulder.

 

"Was your fault," he muttered, but he couldn't be that bothered because Louis was laughing and tugging him out the door.

 

"Quiet, Curly," Louis said, rushing them to the elevator. "We're going to go out and go on adventures and not think about sex once, okay?"

 

That was really, _really_ unlikely, considering that they were always wanting to jump each others bones. But Paris was new, exciting—maybe they could get distracted enough by the lights and sites to forget about fucking for a little while.

 

 

"That sounds perfect," Harry replied, allowing Louis to intertwine their fingers and pull him along. "Are we still planning on aimlessly wandering the streets?"

 

Louis nodded. "Pretty much. But it's fucking France, so there must be some sort of cool shit that'll catch our eye."

 

Louis didn't realize how accurate his words had been until they were passing a candy store with a ridiculously cliche name and Harry was staring in the window excitedly. Louis rolled his eyes and feigned annoyance, but Harry knew it was an act when he opened the door and ushered Harry inside.

 

"You have literally no limitations as to what you can buy," Louis whispered in Harry's ear. "Just so you know."

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "I brought my own money, so you can forget any plans of spoiling me while on this trip."

 

Louis frowned, and Harry's impulse was to kiss it. "But the whole point of this trip was for me _to_ spoil you."

 

Harry smiled, eyes shining with fond. "Not to spend time with your amazingly sweet and equally gorgeous boyfriend?" He asked sarcastically, yet innocently.

 

Louis leaned forward and pecked Harry's mouth. When he pulled back, he was smiling. "That, too." He stood on the tips of his toes, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "What about that right there? It looks nice."

 

Harry smiled, locking his eyes onto Louis'. "It does."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "You're so fucking cheesy," he muttered, but then he kissed Harry to make sure he knew he didn't mean it even though the joking in his tone was obvious. He just really wanted to kiss Harry.

 

They ended up buying a variation of sweets because, hell, they were in Paris and they were allowed to splurge. And when they were ready to leave, Louis distracted Harry by telling him he needed to run to the restroom before they left and went to the check-out desk and bought everything instead. Harry should've known the minute Louis decided to take all of their items with him to the loo.

 

But Harry didn't fight him; he planned on being with Louis for quite a while, and he knew in that time Louis would buy him gifts and presents and things Harry didn't need but Louis wanted to give him anyway. So it was better to get used to it now rather than later, no matter how much Harry wanted to protest.

 

As they were walking out of the store, Louis noticed something off in the distance. "Looks like we chose a good time to come," he said, pointing until Harry averted his gaze. "It looks like some sort of carnival."

 

And then Harry smiled so brightly that Louis instantly began weaving through the crowds, pushing passed civilians in efforts to get to the carnival first.

 

Harry couldn't help but feel like absolute royalty in Louis' presence; anything he wanted, he got. And while he felt undeservingly spoiled, he thought it was a small price to pay for how happy Louis was when he felt he'd pleased Harry. So Harry allowed himself to be dragged.

 

"I didn't even know they had these things in Paris," Louis confided later, once they were standing at the ticket booth.

 

Harry laughed. "It's not another _continent_ , Louis," he whispered, clinging to Louis' side to allow people by. "We're still in Europe, babe."

 

"Shush," Louis replied, smiling graciously at the lady working the booth and taking their two tickets, handing one to Harry. "I've only been here once. When I was, like, five. So I have the right to be as ignorant as I please."

 

"I wouldn't blame your travelling experiences for your ignorance." Harry skillfully avoided the punch Louis threw his way.

 

"I must be pretty ignorant," Louis retorted. "I chose to take _you_ on this trip. Of all people."

 

Harry rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. He stopped once they were standing in front of the line for the ferris wheel, pulling Louis to a stop as well. Before Louis could shout "What the hell?" or something equally as mean, Harry spoke.

 

"If I pretend to be afraid of heights and get you on the ferris wheel with me, will you cuddle and kiss me as many times as I need so I'm not scared anymore?"

 

"You'd be a terrible spy, or anything else that involves lying," Louis muttered, bumping Harry's hip with his own, but then he was smiling like the lovesick idiot he is. "And I was sort of planning on doing that anyway, so."

 

"Of course you were." Harry leaned over and pecked Louis on the cheek.

 

True to his word, Louis kept Harry nestled into his side the entire venture to the top. When they were merely a few seconds from the very tip, Harry smiled up at Louis.

 

"Kiss me," he said. "It'll be romantic, I swear."

 

Louis laughed, because Harry thought he had to ask.

 

As soon as their lips touched, Harry was gripping at Louis' face and caressing his cheeks to keep him exactly where he was. He opened his mouth invitingly, fighting a grin when Louis' tongue effortlessly slipped passed his lips.

 

The kiss lasted longer than Harry thought, apparently, because before long, Louis was tapping his thigh and pointing downward to let him know they'd be the next to get off. Harry smiled up at him, his mouth red and wet, and Louis _definitely_ knew what they'd be doing once they got back to the hotel.

 

True to his thoughts, as soon as Louis slid the key in and the door was opened, they were both hurrying through and removing their clothing along the way. As soon as Louis' back hit the mattress, Harry was crawling across the sheets and straddling Louis' legs in his eagerness to get Louis' cock in his mouth.

 

And when he felt the heat of Harry's mouth surrounding him, his thoughts were swarmed with _Harry, Harry, Harry_ , and Louis suddenly remembered.

 

"Fuck," he swore, both from the amazing oral he was getting and the fact that _he had two fucking rings in his bag that he needed to do something with before they left_ , fuck.

 

But the thing was Harry had become nearly an expert at giving Louis blowjobs, knew everything to do, how to do it and when to do it to get Louis to come. As soon as Harry's hands squeezed gently at Louis' balls while he sucked the tip into his mouth, Louis was shooting down his throat.

 

Louis took a second to recollect himself then immediately propped himself on his elbows, perfectly ready to return the favor, but instead he was met with the sight of Harry rutting helplessly against the mattress. _Honestly_ , it would've been a crime to make him stop.

 

Once Harry finished, he looked up at Louis with flushed cheeks and a small, seemingly innocent smile that was completely out of place, given that he'd just fucked into a bed until he came after blowing off his boyfriend. But it was still Harry, and therefore still perfect.

 

Harry crawled up Louis' body as he always did, stopping when he was close enough to kiss him and continued to do just that. He cuddled himself into Louis' chest, kissing his neck and if Louis wanted to do anything but fuck for the rest of the night, he needed to get up _now_.

 

"Harry," he muttered. He felt Harry hum against his neck in question. "I need to, uh. Get something."

 

Harry sighed, much too comfortable to _want_ to move, but Louis was asking so he kissed his chest, whispered, "Hurry up," and rolled off of his boyfriend.

 

Louis grinned, kissed the top of Harry's head and rushed off of the bed and to his bag where he'd left the rings—and fuck, thinking the word made his stomach flop fearfully. It wasn't that he doubted that _he_ wanted to do this, but. There was a such thing as saying no, something Harry could very easily do if he so decided. And that was... _awful_ to think about.

 

 

Sighing when he realized he didn't even have the comfort of a pocket to stash them in until he got back (he could stuff them in his arse, but he didn't know how comfortable that would be, or if Harry would be a fan), he clenched the small box into his fist and kept his hand behind his back on his venture to the bed.

 

"Took too long," Harry muttered as soon as Louis laid back down. Louis smiled, thinking that he'd definitely made the right decision, despite his previous worries. He was in love with Harry and Harry was in love with him. (fix)

  


 

He bit his lip, taking a chance and moving to straddle Harry's narrow hips with his thighs. He kept his hands cleverly hidden behind his back, smiling down at Harry.

 

"Again?" Harry asked. "But we just—"

  


"What? _No_ ," Louis whispered. "I mean, I like to have sex with you. It's great, and you're great. I just—I don't wanna fuck right now. At least not _right_ this second—"

 

 

"Lou," Harry cut him off, putting his hands on either side of his hips. "You get all rambly when you're nervous or hiding something, or nervous _because_ you're hiding something. Spill."

 

Louis sighed, leaning forward until he was hovering over Harry's chest and body. "Okay. Yeah, I will," he said. "Right after you kiss me and promise not to freak out?"

 

"The first part's easy," Harry muttered, grinning up at Louis and planting a quick kiss to his mouth. "And I promise not to freak out, just as long as you don't tell me you have a terminal illness. Or you're breaking up with me." Harry bit his lip. "Just to be clear, it's neither of those, right?"

 

Louis laughed softly, sitting up straighter. He clicked the box against the bare skin of his back quietly. "No. Promise."

 

Harry let out a breath. "Okay. I can take it, then. Swear to it."

 

Louis inhaled deeply. "Yeah. Okay," he began. He swallowed, his voice becoming more serious. "Harry—you know I love you. I love you a lot," he paused, waiting for Harry to nod. "And I know neither of us have really dated outside of us. And we should probably test the waters before making rash decisions, but..." He swallowed, bringing his eyes to meet Harry's. "But experience is only a formality, and it doesn't matter how many guys I kiss to tell me you were and always will be the best.

 

 

"So, um, with all of that being... out there," he said quickly. "I'll get to the good part, I suppose."

 

He pulled the box from behind his back and sat it on Harry's chest, flipping open the lid just as he rushed out, "They're not wedding rings." He paused, realizing how odd that'd sounded. "They're promise rings," he amended. "And it's like—I know we're going to get married one day, but we're still in high school and we should probably wait a bit so as to prevent my mum having a heart attack."

 

 

Harry was silent, causing Louis to worry about it being too much. Harry quietly plucked one of the rings from the boxes, examining it carefully and holding it like it was the most fragile object to ever exist.

 

Louis leaned closer to the ring in Harry's hand, flipping it so the inside was in Harry's view. "This one's yours. It's one of those inner message rings. It says always, because me and you is an always type of thing."

 

Harry finally cracked a smile, flipping the ring between his index and thumb. He looked Louis in the eye, admiring the way Louis' lip looked, pulled between his teeth in fear. He looked like his heart was pounding out of his chest—Harry knew, he could feel it, too.

 

 

"And mine says 'H'," Louis continued, clearly unable to bear the silence. "You know, for Harry."

 

"I'd never have guessed," Harry commented. Louis gave him a crooked smile, taking notice of the way Harry's fingers held the ring like it was something he'd never want to let go. Louis hoped he didn't want to let it go.

 

"Is that a yes, then?" Louis asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry—challenging him to say no.

 

 

Harry smiled, sliding the ring onto his own finger. He took the other ring from the box, picking Louis' hand up oh so slowly, and slid the ring onto his finger as well. Louis stared, grinning impossibly wide as a relieved laugh escaped his lips.

 

"Always," Harry muttered.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A part two should be up if it's wanted—it would include their senior prom, double the fluff, and I can't say much else without giving spoilers. So. Yeah.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> ♡ tumblr: [zourry](http://zourry.tumblr.com) ♡


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